


Nothing Less

by WellDoneBeca



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone is blood related, Everyone is blood related because I needed a link, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, King Tony Stark, Loss of Virginity, Minor Character Death, Minor Maria Hill/Phil Coulson, Minor Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Navy, Navy Maria Hill, Oral Sex, Parent Tony, Parent Tony Stark, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Pietro is a little shit, Prince Bucky Barnes, Princess reader, Protective Bucky Barnes, Quickies, Real People Mention, Royalty, Slow Build, Tony Stark Has A Heart, World War II, future smut, prince bucky, wedding ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 34,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14174553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellDoneBeca/pseuds/WellDoneBeca
Summary: Life as a princess isn’t what people fantasise. As first in line to the throne, there were things you dreamed to do but never could, and things you never wanted to do but needed. Rules, duties, roles to be fulfilled… Your father taught you to put the crown before everything in your life, and if you hadn’t learnt that lesson before you needed to now. Marrying James was never in your plans, but you needed him as much as he needed you.All you wanted was to love him and be loved back.Nothing more than that. Nothing less.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

[(For a deeper experience, listen to this while reading)](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fother-atmospheres.ambient-mixer.com%2Fchapel-wedding&t=Mzc3NWQxYmIzN2JkMjc0OTFiN2IzODg3MTQzNjU4MGYxM2Q3NTcwZixBVEdoUXVGRw%3D%3D&b=t%3A6qk-D_zAzXPy1OBa4AoVtA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fbecaamm.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F172486596320%2Fnothing-less-prologue&m=1)

You took a long breath, looking at yourself in the mirror. The wedding dress fell on you perfectly, but you could barely see it.

“You don’t need to do it,” your father touched your back. “We can find another way.”

You just kept staring at yourself in the mirror. Your face was cold, and your eyes were digging so deep into your own reflection that you could feel your soul breaking into pieces.

“They are waiting for us,” you reminded him. “Everyone.”

You closed your eyes and then opened them once again.

“They need us,” you reminded him. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Tony held your arm, walking out of your room and through the corridor while the staff watched you.

You and Tony were alone. You were an only child, having lost your mother early in your life, and the obvious future queen. It’s not like you were in a full monarchy, though, but your roles were important. Your father’s decisions were always to be accompanied and measured by the parliament and his authority had limits these days, as well as yours would. Still, there were things you needed to answer for and alliances that still required you. That’s why you were in that dress.

James Buchanan Sebastian Philip Barnes-Rogers was the prince of a country close to yours, much smaller but that needed your help. They were currently in a war, running out of soldiers and even food, and his older brother – King Steven, the first – had approached your father with a proposition of exchanging his younger brother for full support. Your father wanted to refuse, stating you were not a coin to be exchanged, but you didn’t. You were getting older – the two of you were – and the pressure to find a husband was turning your life into a mess. Every man you could ever meet was trying to get a place by your side or, worse, your bed. Everyone who approached you wanted something and you couldn’t take that anymore.

You waved outside with a large smile while people cheered around you.

“We can still leave,” your father affirmed when the carriage stopped in front of the church. “We can leave, just say the word, right Happy?” he said to the driver.

“Yes, sir.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand.

“Come on, dad,” you smiled once again. “I’m not going back now.”

Your father walked you into the huge cathedral and you two stopped to talk to the bishop. You couldn’t hear them, as Wanda – your maid of honour - fixed your dress and positioned herself along with the bridesmaids and the page boys.

When you finally started walking, you had to tell yourself out of squeezing your father’s hand too tightly or walking too slow – or fast. Your smile was almost painful to hold. You could feel the hand around yours tightening when you and your father lied eyes on the man standing with his back turned to you beside his brother – the king. James was massive, with large shoulders and strong arms that could probably lift you up with no effort.

When he looked at you, his eyes were the bluest you could have ever seen in your life, beautiful and bright. You couldn’t hear the words spoken to you, not with him looking at you with the corner of his eyes. When he turned to you, he couldn’t look in your eyes, but his voice was firm and his grip tight on your hand as he said his words.

“I, James Buchanan Sebastian Philip, take thee, Y/F/N, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.“

You took a long breath before it was your turn. You and your father had had a long discussion about what you were going to say and how much that would mean.

_Don’t make promises you can’t keep._

“I, Y/F/N, take thee, James Buchanan Sebastian Philip, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

You could see the moment on his face. The single,  _small_  word you’ve left out that made his jaw twitch and his eyes to freeze on your face. You could feel everyone staring at you, from King Steven to your husband and every single person inside the building.

Obey.

You didn’t promise to obey.


	2. I

James had given up his nationality titles and right to the throne a week before marrying you. All he had from his past was part of his name, and only because of your father’s insistence. Barnes. He was still a Barnes.

You’ve known each other for about five months and gotten engaged three weeks after your first meeting. The reasons behind your marriage were a secret to be kept and a cover story was carefully written to keep people from speculating.

To them, you and James had met when he travelled in his brother’s name around one year and a half ago and kept constant contact ever since. You both shared the same love for movies – especially those with Vivien Leigh – and Shakespeare, and he’d fallen for you when he heard you singing and playing the piano while looking for the men’s restroom.

_Bullshit._

“These shoes are killing me,” you whispered to Wanda as she fixed your dress for the pictures. “Why do I need to wear heels, again?”

“Because your husband is awfully tall,” she reminded you with a chuckle. “You’ll be able to take those off soon enough. There will be a change of clothing for the ball.”

You nodded but went back to your standard position when James walked to stand by our side. He was, indeed, very tall, with shoulders extremely broad he could fit you over them easily and dark hair slicked back.

“You look very lovely,” your  _husband_ whispered, and you felt a shiver running your skin.

His voice was everything his body also was. It was low, thick and warm, with a comforting but thrilling sound.

Your husband.

“Thank you,” you said back as he stood straight, taking your hand. “You look very handsome.”

“Thank you.”

Pictures and more pictures were taken. You two alone, and then with the people waiting, family and friends. Your father was the last one and, when it was done, he walked to you a chair and kneeled in front of you.

“Wanda mentioned you were complaining about the shoes,” he explained nonchalantly, ignoring the looks you were receiving. “Why didn’t you mention before?”

“I didn’t think they would hurt to bad,” you pulled the dress up enough as he helped your feet out of the straps. “They are too high.”

“I can see that.”

You didn’t miss James whispering something to King Steven and the way both men watched you. They were a relatively small family: The queen mother – Sara – was still alive, though her husband had passed away half a decade prior, and they were their only children. They were never close to their father. Steven was married to Margaret, a young and beautiful woman, but refraining himself from having children until the war was over. Now James had given up his nationality and titles, his second cousin Peter was the official heir to the crown.

“You’re an angel,” you affirmed when he helped you put on your favourite pair or  _very comfortable_ shoes. They were a bit old, but you didn’t mind, and no one could complain about it anyway.

“No,” he stood on his feet. “I’m just the father of one. How do I look?”

“Like a king.”

Tony smiled, helping you up, and the doors were opened so you and James could show walk outside and show off to the public eye. You walked in hand in hand, followed by the other people but never looking back at them.

“I didn’t think so many people would show up,” he said by your side, sounding surprised and a bit excited. “They filmed us.”

“They are still filming,” you corrected him. “Taking pictures, probably writing about us.”

“About your dress?” he sounded amused.

“Oh, that too,” you focused on a group of children. “But also questioning my decision of marrying a foreign man, questioning your decision of giving everything up for me. Wondering how long it will take for me to start popping up children and if my overly protective father does think you are enough. Speculate whether you will still be an active man of the military or not for now on and how much influence on me that will have. How much  _you_  will influence  _them_.”

You could see how the words had surprised him, but he didn’t have time to say anything, as you were already walking back into the room and the wedding celebration.

“Do I really need to stay?” you questioned your father in a whisper.

“Oh, darling, you know you do,” he put his arm around yours. “There is the first dance and all of the diplomatic stuff you need to do. We will play your favourite song, what do you think?”

You hesitated but took a breath.

“I don’t have a choice, remember?”


	3. II

Bucky watched as you sat in the armchair, still looking stunning but with tiredness behind your eyes. He’d loved your eyes as soon as he saw them closely. They were strong,  _brutal_  and yet too delicate. A woman with no soft heart, he heard from people say when he asked around, older than your age and beyond your time.

A perfect and adored princess to a pompous country.

“Do you need help?” he questioned when he noticed how hard it looked to bend down in such a tight ball gown.

The wedding had happened in the afternoon, just before the sunset, and had given place to a ball where you’d changed into a dress as white as the one you’d used at the church, and even higher heels. You’ve danced together there, and he’d had the real opportunity of looking at you, of feeling you finally. He’d never smelt such an attractive scent as yours, something like chypre and not floral as many women. Honestly, he wished it was acceptable for him to lift you up and put his face in the crook of your neck and spend the night there, but you would probably feel uncomfortable with such contact.

“Thank you,” you muttered just before he kneeled in your chambers – just like your father earlier – and handed your right foot delicately, removing the tight shoe and rubbing the front of it just before doing it to the next one.

The long sigh you left didn’t go unnoticed by him, and he held back a small grin.

“There you go,” he muttered. “Does it feel better?”

You nodded shyly, suddenly realising the position you two were and raisin your eyes quickly at the knock on your open door.

“Your Royal Highness,” your Lady of the Chamber stopped in front of you. “Is my assistance required?”

“Yes, please,” you stood up, feeling your cheeks awfully hot. “I need to get out of this dress.”

Bucky stepped back excusing himself with a mutter before giving you privacy and walking out of the chambers you shared and stepping into the bedroom. The place looked comfortable, classical and large as expected. The bed – a special design – could fit at least three men or his size and still have some room left. With the number of pillows there, he could for sure make some sort of separator between you when the time to sleep came. You were staying in the same castle you’ve grown up in, where King Anthony lived. You had your own wing, of course, so far away from your father’s that a phone call was an easier way to communicate than walking into wherever he could be. It was close to the kitchen at least and to the gym that he’d have installed there. It was close enough to Steve’s chambers too so he could spend the last days of his brother’s stay with him. Maybe you could even have some time with Peggy and become friends.

On the door opposite to the one leading to the room you were in, his own servant waited to help him change into his sleepwear. It took him less time to get out of his formal attire and into warm cotton flannels after dismissing the silk option.

“Thank you,” he wrapped his cotton robes. “You may go.”

He closed the door behind him himself, wondering what the people around were thinking. Did the staff know the truth or were they blissfully unaware of how he didn’t know you, the woman who would lay by his side? Did they think you would consummate the marriage or just sleep in an awkward silence?

He could hear when your servant walked out of the other room and the doors were closed, giving place to a deafening lack of sound only interrupted by the way the fabric of your ivory gown rubbing on itself.

“Your Royal Highness,” he muttered, making you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You can’t be serious,” you stared at his face. “I have a name.”

“Y/F/N?” he smirked.

“Y/N,” you corrected him. “Would you enjoy if I called you Your Royal Highness, James Buchanan Sebastian Philip, Duke of Barnes every time we spoke to one another?”

Bucky chuckled. 

_Duke. Not a prince. Not anymore._

“That would be awfully annoying,” he muttered. “I’d prefer to be called Bucky if that is not a problem.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“Bucky?”

“From Buchanan,” he put his hands in his pockets. “My grandmother thought it sounded better than just James. More intimate.”

You nodded.

“Okay then. Bucky.”

He smiled and you returned it without seeming to think before sitting on the bed. You had a beautiful smile.

“Y/N,” he said, now much more relaxed and pulling a chair to sit in front of you at an arm’s distance. “I imagine we need to talk about… Tonight.”

You nodded, and he watched as your face changed back to the usual neutral and almost cold expression he’d been used to see.

“I don’t think we should,” he hesitated, trying to find his words and swallowing saliva. “I don’t think we should rush things. I don’t know you and you don’t know me.”

You nodded slowly, and he saw your shoulders move as if something was lifted from them. You were nervous too, it made things much easier.

“Do you want your own bed?” you offered.

He shook his head.

“No, no,” he smiled. “There is space for both of us in there.”

You nodded once again, and he ran a hand up and down his thigh.

“So,” he looked into your eyes. “How do your feet feel?”

You just stared at him in silence, head tilted slightly to the side and a frown between your eyebrows creating a single line there.

“I took off your shoes five minutes ago, doll. You seemed to be in agonising pain. How did you manage to dance with them?”

You shrugged dismissively.

“You learn things when you are a woman. Swallow your pain is one of them.”

He looked down at his own hands for one moment and then at your feet, coming up with an idea.

“Lay down, give me them,” he reached out, lifting your ankles and trying not to glance at how the gown slipped up to reveal the soft skin of your calves.

“What are you doing?” you sounded alarmed.

“Giving my wife a foot rub,” he said like it was obvious. “What does it look like I’m doing?”


	4. III

You’d fallen asleep while James…  _Bucky_  rubbed your feet, too lost in the relaxing comfort to even notice yourself drift away.

He’d woken up in the middle of the night – at 2 or 3 am, perhaps – with the sound of steps in the corridor, looking at his side just to see that you weren’t there.

“Y/N?” he called, trying not to sound too loud but receiving no response back, hesitating and then following the sounds of your footsteps until they disappeared.

James never imagined a single wing could be so big and easy to get lost inside. The staff was asleep, which left no one to guide him through the halls. He had to stop for a whole minute to find himself, but the sound of a low humming quickly brought his feet to the right way.

Standing in front of the oven with the thin lace and silk gown, you seemed to be singing the same song you two had danced to with your father earlier that day, distracted while putting what looked like fried eggs in a plate.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, making you jump startled and the frying pan in your hand fell on your opposite hand, pressing your hand against the surface under it before falling close to your feet on the floor.

Oh, shit.

Bucky moved quickly, seeing the red mark on the back of your hand and realising what he had just caused.

_Wait, had you just whisper the lowest ‘Fuck’ he’d ever heard or was he mistaken?_

“Goodness,” you exclaimed, holding your own arm and letting the frying pan fall to the floor. “What are you doing here? You should be asleep.”

“I heard you walking out of the room,” he pulled you to the closest sink, putting your hand under running water and biting down a curse when he noticed how part of your skin had gone with the metal, and how the whole area between the start of your fingers and the circle of your wrist was damaged. “ _Good God_.”

When he turned to look at your face, he couldn’t help but feel extremely surprised. You weren’t even grimacing, only biting your lip in response to what he knew was a strong feeling of pain.

“We need to get someone to give this a look,” he decided, opening cabinets around to find any pan or anything he could fill with water and put your hand inside. “I’m so sorry.”

“The next door,” you pointed, making him look at you. “The door next to this one. You’re looking for a big pan, you will find it.”

He followed your instruction, looking around for any bell he could ring to bring someone as he picked the pan and filled it up, pulling your hand from the running water to lay under the colder option.

“I’m so sorry,” he continued to repeat, finally finding a calling button and ringing it furiously. “Does it hurt?”

“I’ll survive,” you said calmly. “They won’t answer. We’re not ringing from our room, they won’t think it is important.”

Bucky froze, turning to look at you in worry.

“Someone needs to look at your hand.”

“It is nothing to worry too much about,” you looked at the injury, removing your hand from underwater and drying it with the closest cloth. “It’s not blistering. It will be fine.”

He looked at you in surprise. Any other princess he could have ever met would be – at least – complaining and crying in pain. You weren’t even reacting.

“What were you doing?” he turned the subject around, walking to the large freezer in hope to find ice.

“Frying eggs,” you looked at him. “What did it look like I was doing?”

Bucky frowned. What did you think you were, a commoner?

“You know the kitchen staff is there for this exact reason, right? If you’re hungry, you just need to ask them for food.”

You rolled your eyes, walking back to your plate and seeing how some of the eggs were on the floor. Bucky suddenly wondered if you would clean it yourself or ask someone to do it.

“They are asleep. They worked for days to make the party happen and it’s not like there are leftovers, they took that home with them.”

“Why haven’t you eater at the party, then?”

The way you looked at him made him froze for a moment, seeing as your eyes filled with fire for one single second before something else took place.

“Have you seen my ball gown?” you frowned. “Or my wedding dress? I’ve been dieting since our engagement was announced and only eating soup and drinking juice since I learnt that we would be broadcasted.”

His eyes widened. Well, you did look a lot thinner since the first time he saw you but that wasn’t something he would first expect.

“Wait,” he raised a hand. “You haven’t eaten anything solid in 10 weeks? Give me those eggs, you can’t start so suddenly!” he walked to you, pulling your plate away and walking to the trash, throwing away your eggs.

You looked at him, mortified, but any protests were interrupted when a man walked into the kitchen.

“Your Royal Highnesses,” he sounded surprised. “How can I be useful?”

Instantly, Bucky stood straighter.

“My wife is hungry. Could you have someone fetch her some rice or corn cream, please? Thank you.”

The staff man nodded.

“And a doctor or nurse or… Anything like that. She burned her hand, someone has to give it a look,” your husband requested before he could leave. “That is all.”

The man nodded only again.

“It will be done, your royal highness. Excuse me.”


	5. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I married Antarctica,”

“You can cook,” Bucky noticed as you ate your tomato creamy soup. “How did you learn?”

“I can’t cook,” you rested your spoon. “I can fry eggs. My nanny taught me when I was around 10 without my father’s knowledge. She thought it would be useful.”

He smirked in response. A man had come to see your hand and clean it, and now you had a gauze around it. It was just a first-degree burn, it would heal itself alone in a week or so.

“I see her point,” he decided. “Enjoying your cream?”

“I would like eggs much better,” you glared at him.

“Well, if you try them you’ll probably get sick,” he corrected you. “Once I served in a country with a terrible problem of death by starvation. The climate and the government were to blame. Anyway,” he explained. “One of our soldiers made the mistake of feeding a starving woman with no preparation or care. She had severe pains and diarrhoea.”

You tried to keep your eyes on him even though the embarrassment inside you. It was stupid telling him about your diet. He probably thought of you as very stupid now.

“The right procedure is to introduce food slowly,” he continued. “First liquids. Then creamy. Small solids with the person chewing as best as they can. It can take up to days or weeks for the person to be able to eat a fully solid meal with no ill effects. I’m simply caring for you.”

You went back to your cream and you glanced at your side when you saw the eggs being cleaned from the floor.

“Who suggested it?” he questioned.“The liquid diet.”

You seemed taken back by the question but answered after a second of thought.

“One of my ladies-in-waiting. Barbara something. She is one of those who helps me dress up.”

“Noble birth?” he inquired once again.

“No,” you shook your head. “Staff member.”

James nodded, finally leaving the subject aside but acknowledging every bit of information.

“You didn’t need any diet,” he said in a lower tone. “You would look lovely in any way. I actually liked you better when you were… Curvier.”

He held a smile when you stared at him in surprise.

“If my opinion matters, I mean.”

He tried to keep himself from laughing when you shifted in your seat.

“Thank you.”

* * *

“I think I married Antarctica,” Bucky said, and Steve arched an eyebrow at him. “I mean it.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“She never laughs!” Bucky exclaimed. “I tried my best. I cracked some jokes, complimented her, told her stories… Cold as a freezer. We’ve been married for two days and she has  _barely_  smiled at me so far.”

“Maybe you are losing your charm,” Peggy said behind them, rubbing her husband shoulders. “She looks like she is a very lovely girl. I heard she has interesting tastes.”

He rested his back on his chair.

“Like what?”

“Animated movies,” she shrugged. “Disney’s, especially. Pinocchio, Dumbo… I heard there is a new production… Bimbo? Bambo? Something like that.”

“Bambi,” he corrected her. “It is from an Australian book.”

“I think mother read it to us, Buck,” Steve pointed. “Isn’t it about the deer?”

His brother nodded.

“Anyway,” Peggy waved her hand. “Take her to the movie, eat some popcorn with butter, maybe candy… Be a couple. It’s simple.”

Bucky bit his lower lip, thinking of the suggestion and standing up.

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me now.”

“Where are you going?” Steve questioned.

“Have a moment with the king,” he fixed his suit in front of a mirror, making sure everything was in place. “There is something worrying me and I think it may be of his interest.”

His brother looked at him in surprise, but the  ~~prince~~ Duke walked away from them the same way, stopping in front of the king’s office a few minutes later and taking a long breath, waiting to be announced.

He felt weird walking into the room. Pictures and more pictures of the previous monarchs and members of your family, including a large frame with you, your mother and your father standing together, which finally revealed to him the face of the long-gone Queen Virginia.

“Your majesty,” he bowed in respect.

“James,” King Anthony nodded back. “I’m sorry I took so long, you probably know how the latest days have been busy.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he nodded. “I’m sure Your Majesty has many…”

“Boy,” he interrupted him. “Before you start. Who are you here to talk to?”

The Duke frowned, not understanding. What kind of question was that?

“Are you here for the king or the man?” Anthony explained, seeing how the younger man’s posture changed to a more relaxed one.

“I’m here to talk to my wife’s father,” he finally answered. “Sir.”

Anthony breathed deep, sitting back in the armchair behind him.

“Sit down,” he unbuttoned his suit. “What is wrong?”

James complied but shifted in his seat, a bit uncomfortable.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, have you noticed the change in Y/N’s shape?” he asked carefully. “Since our engagement was announced, especially?”

Anthony’s face changed in confusion as he stared at the man in front of him.

“Well…” he hesitated. “I did.”

_He wanted to talk about that?_

“Sir, I know this may sound a bit out of place with all your worries, but I’m only here because I think it is of your interest to know what kind of thing people are working and influencing your daughter,” Bucky continued. “It came to my knowledge recently that someone suggested that the princess was, apparently, too chubby for the telly. A lady in waiting, to be more specific. Barbara.”

King Anthony sat back and took a long breath, seeming deeply annoyed with the information.

“She proceeded to a full liquid diet and… Sir, I have some medical training from when I served and I don’t think it was something very healthy for her,” he affirmed. “I’ve communicated with the kitchen’s chef and they are making the right modifications to her meals and their frequency, but I would like to be sure nothing like that would ever happen again. The princess’ healthy is something very important.”

Silently, his father-in-law reached out for a bell button by his side, ringing it twice and making the staff member enter the room.

“I need Jarvis here,” he requested. “Immediately. You can go, James. Thank you for letting me know.”


	6. V

“You did what?” you squeezed your own hand tightly in what seemed to be contained anger while staring at your husband.

“I talked to your father,” he said slowly. “That woman was a terrible influence on you, that diet was a terrible decision and we both know that.”

Your face changed for a moment and he could see your eyes boiling as a volcano ready to explode.

“So you don’t think I could have taken care of the problem with her alone?”

He shook his head, stepping closer and laying a hand on your arm, caressing your skin in order to bring you down but keeping a respectful distance from your  _always_ crossed hands.

“No. I simply wanted to help you,” he corrected you. “I’m caring for you. I’m your husband. Let me do that. Were you friends?”

Apparently, the touch calmed you down.

“No.”

“So that won’t be a problem, right?” he squeezed you softly. “I’m sorry if my decision hurt you. I didn’t mean to.”

You looked down at your own hands and he could see how they weren’t clenched anymore.

“You are my husband,” you looked up at him, staring hard into his eyes. “So I’m going to be clear and straight with you.”

Bucky nodded, making circles on your skin with his thumb.

“Of course.”

“Don’t defy my authority again,” you looked in his eyes. “Don’t make me look weak again. If you do, I’ll make you regret it.  _Never_ try to overpower me _._ ”

He swallowed saliva down, the hardness of your eyes making his throat suddenly dry.

“Of course,” he nodded, releasing you from his hands. “It won’t happen again.”

He looked around the room, feeling his whole body tense. How could someone so small be so hard?

“I was thinking,” he tried to change the subject. “And I was wondering if you had the evening free.”

“Why?” you moved your weight from one foot to the other, and he could see how you were in high-heels once again.

“I heard there is a new Disney movie out,” he tried to smile. “I was wondering if you would want to go.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw you raise your chin and breath deeply.

“What movie?”

“Bambi,” he turned fully to you, glancing at the clock behind you. “It starts in three hours, do you wish to go?”

You uncrossed your hands, which made his body relax.  _You were open to it._

“I’ll go get ready.”

Bucky smiled, much more relaxed.

“Would you consider some special dinner after the session?”

You hesitated.

“Special?”

“I was thinking of a restaurant,” he explained. “I heard you like Thai cuisine quite much since you visited the country.”

For one moment you looked surprised but recomposed yourself.

“Did you make reservations?”

* * *

“Bambi?” Wanda raised her head from your comforter, where she was laid. “My nanny used to read it to me when I was a child. It is a beautiful tale. A bit sad, though, you should bring some tissues.”

You shook your head in disapproval.

“I don’t cry, Wanda,” you reminded her. “I thought you already knew about that.”

Your best friend rolled her eyes.

“Of course,” she said in an exaggerated motion while your lady-in-waiting stepped away from you to pick up your hat. “The future queen’s façade. How could I ever forget?”

You did your best to ignore her, running a hand over the place where your skirt and blouse met.

“You look gorgeous,” she stopped behind you. “He won’t be able to look away.”

You smirked, letting out a giggle that made her smile largely.

“Look at you,” she walked to your front, holding both your hands in hers, shaking them. “My sweet Y/N has a boyfriend!”

“He is my husband,” you corrected her, and she made a dismissive movement with her hand. “Are you sure you like it?”

“I love it,” she said slowly, making sure every single word was clear.

She glanced at the lady-in-waiting choosing your earrings.

“Are you going to kiss him?” she whispered.

“Wanda!” you glanced back, alarmed.

“What?” she frowned. “I’m just asking.”

“Oh, shut up,” you looked back at the mirror. “Ella, I think the ones with the garnets will fit perfectly.”

* * *

“Wow,” he muttered. “Doll, [you look stunning](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.polyvore.com%2Fcgi%2Fset%3Fid%3D234253572%26&t=ZTI0MDY1ZDc3YjMyODhiMDkzYzg3ZjJjYTFhMzY2NTIyZjJmNjVkZCxQVTR6NHgxUw%3D%3D&b=t%3A6qk-D_zAzXPy1OBa4AoVtA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fbecaamm.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173196032863%2Fnothing-less-part-5&m=1). I don’t even know why they still hold those Miss Universe competitions when you are right here with me.”

You cracked a – very – small smile before turning your face back to ‘lovely-neutral’ but it was enough to fill Bucky with confidence and hope.

_A smile. Maybe I can have a laugh today._

“Sir,” he heard, turning around to see the staff man holding the bouquet of flowers.

“Thank you,” he took them from his hand, holding it and walking to you. “Here.”

You picked the bouquet up with a frown, bringing it to your nose. It had a sweet and citrus smell.

“What are those?” you looked at him, curious. “They smell delicious.”

“Orange blossoms,” he opened a smile. “They are from my home. My ma has a garden full of them, I imagined… I imagined you would enjoy them.”

You brought them to your nose again, breathing deep.

“They smell amazing. Can we have those in our room?” you turned to the staff member.

“Of course, your royal highness.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, reaching out with it to him. “Show them to the flower lady. And then to our gardener, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When you looked at Bucky, you felt your cheeks warming up with how large he was smiling.

“Darling,” he offered you his arm. “May we go, I don’t want us to be late?”

You squeezed your purse closer to you.

“Of course,” you wrapped a hand around his biceps, holding a gasp when you felt the hard muscle of it and trying not to feel tiny by his side. “Let’s go.”


	7. VI

You had chuckled at the movie. Smiled and chuckled. Bucky had never heard you chuckle yet, so it felt like a good sign.

“Did you like it?” he questioned as you cut the food on your plate.

“It was beautiful,” you looked up at his face. “I loved it. Thank you, Bucky.”

He smiled openly in response, leaning closer to your direction.

“You’re welcome. It was indeed a great movie, we should watch it again in the future.”

You nodded, eating more. He’d chosen your dish that night, still reminding you of how your body was still adapting to  _normal food_  but not staying in the subject for too long.

“I would like it very much.”

Bucky didn’t like silence very much. He was a chatter and almost never felt comfortable when the room fell into silence. You, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. You enjoyed silence, white noise always comforted you when you needed and wasn’t one to speak much, especially when in a crowd. You were in the public eye too much and any word you said could turn against you at any moment if misinterpreted. Besides, one of the lessons your mother left you before her death was that ‘ _if you don’t have anything useful to say, silence is the best option_ ’.

“Tell me something,” he said after long minutes. “What’s your favourite colour?”

You frowned, tilting your hair to the side.

“Beg you pardon?”

“Your favourite colour.”

You shifted in your seat.

“Y/F/C,” you decided.

“Favourite flavour?”

“Y/F/F.”

He nodded, thinking a bit more and his eyes fell on your hand, where a diamond ring rested above your wedding ring. It was your engagement ring, but also something deeper. The ring was one King Anthony had given him to give you when you became a couple, but it had once belonged to your mother, the late Queen Virginia.

“Tell me a childhood story,” he asked in a soft voice. “Something you may miss. Anything.”

You stood in silence for a moment before sitting back and cleaning the corners of your mouth.

“When I was seven, two years after my mother…” you interrupted yourself. You weren’t ready to talk about your mother yet. “There was an oak tree the boys used to climb, it still exists somewhere in our garden. One day they were climbing it as they would usually do, scream ‘I am the king’ and then go down. And I was around, I was walking in the gardens and I saw them and said, ‘You can’t be the king, my father is the king and then I will be the queen’, they weren’t having it, though.”

Bucky listened carefully, he could see where it was going but was interested in how  _you_  felt about it.

“And then one of the boys said that I couldn’t be the queen because queens are only married to kings and are only there to give birth to children. They said a woman couldn’t be head of state.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh,” he muttered. “That was very rude.”

You nodded.

“Yes, and they also said I couldn’t climb the tree because girls were too weak.”

“Really?” Bucky questioned. “What did you do?”

“I climbed the tree,” you shrugged. “All 25 feet up. No one else was able to go that high.”

He stared at you in surprise, smiling openly.

“And did you say anything?”

“I did,” you nodded, looking around with a rather pleased look on your face. “I screamed ‘Queen Y/F/N, the first’ and I think the world fell into dead silence.”

He smiled openly in surprise.

“Really?” he chuckled. “What did they say?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “They were too surprised and then my nanny came desperate and told me to get down.”

Bucky started laughing discreetly and you rolled your eyes as the corner of your mouth curled the slightest, trying to hold back your giggles.

“I can just imagine her face,” he looked around.

“Oh, she was desperate,” you tried to keep yourself from smiling as your voice changed to mock your old British nanny. “Get down, Y/N, this is not ladylike.”

Bucky opened a huge grin and you couldn’t help yourself, finally opening a full smile and letting out the smallest of the giggles.

_Yes, a full smile. Finally! A full smile._

“When we’re home, you definitely need to show me that tree.”


	8. VII

“Well, it is still growing,” you touched the tree trunk. “Must be around 65 feet, I’d say. It’s been… 15 years?” you tried to remember.

Bucky looked up for a moment, trying to measure how high you’d probably gone decades ago.

“Weren’t you afraid of falling?” he questioned, finally looking at you again. “25 feet… That’s awfully high. Dangerous too.”

You shrugged.

“I wasn’t thinking much,” you confessed. “I just wanted to prove them wrong.”

You stood silently, feeling his hand in the middle of your back.

“That seems to be something you do frequently,” he whispered and you turned to look at him. “Prove them wrong.”

You didn’t have an answer. Instead, you sat on the closest thick branch – a relatively high one that had your legs hanging in the air when you did so – and undid your shoes, letting them fall before reaching out to the branch above you, standing up.

“What are you doing?” Bucky smiled.

“Climbing it,” you looked at him like he had asked a stupid question. You were drunk. Not  _too drunk_ but enough to ignore the danger of doing so. “What does it look like I’m doing? Hold my shoes, would you? I don’t want them dirty.”

He picked your high heels from the floor, putting them on a safe branch by his side and crossing his arms.

“Be careful, you don’t want to fall down.”

“Won’t you catch me if I do?” you climbed up swiftly, surprising him. You were actually  _good_ doing that.

“I will try,” he chuckled. “Be careful, though. I may be tall but I’m not able to fly.”

“Oh, no, you’re no tall,” you stopped, looking down at him. “Darling,  **I’m**  tall. You are a giant.”

You were a tall girl, that’s something you were always reminded of as a kid. While your father was of average high for a man, you’ve taken from your mother – who was slightly taller than him – to grow past what people expected.

“I’m lucky I got to marry you,” you continued to climb up, not realising how your filters were practically inexistent now. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to wear heels ever again.”

Bucky was obviously having fun. If he knew that getting you slightly drunk would be the key to unlocking your chatty mode, he would have done that much earlier.

“I thought the heels hurt your feet.”

He moved from his spot when he noticed how you were moving the other side of the tree.

“Come on, darling, don’t go so high. Your father will kill me if you show up hurt after our first date,” he reminded you. “I don’t think my brother will be so happy with it either.”

You giggled, sitting and smiling as your legs hang, swinging.

“Hello you there,” you smiled. “I’m taller than you here.”

“Apparently,” he let out a laugh. “Will you come down, please?”

You faced the landscape in front of you for a moment, breathing deeply.

“I wish we could take pictures with our eyes,” you muttered. “It’s beautiful up here. You can watch the sunset too. Would be lovely.”

He waited in silence as you moved down, following you with his eyes and opening his arms for you to jump when it became clear your feet couldn’t touch the ground, otherwise your pantyhose would end up very dirty.

“Help me put on my shoes,” you muttered, both thrilled and slightly uncomfortable with your position.

“No need,” Bucky reached out with the hand he had under your knees, taking the pair. “I’ll carry you.”

With those words, he adjusted you in his strong arms and started walking away from the tree, carrying you inside and holding a chuckle with the looks you were getting along the way.

“Your Royal Highnesses!” one of the staff men rushed to you when he noticed your position.

“Don’t worry, my dear wife is just barefoot,” Bucky assured him. “I’m taking her to our room. There is no need to help us.”

The man nodded, and you hid your face in the crook of your husband’s neck, inhaling his rather delicious scent.

“Do you want us to dismiss the staff in your chambers, sir?” he questioned.

Your whole face filled with blood and heat with the implication of his words and your felt Bucky’s hands squeezed you just a little bit tighter.

“Thank you, but no. Just give us a moment alone,” he said firmly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

You took a long breath on his neck, feeling a bit intoxicated and wanting to giggle. It was the wine, probably. You wouldn’t be so giggly if it wasn’t for it.

You jumped when you felt and heard the low grumble emerge from his lips, feeling something run your spine.

“My darling,” his hand caressed the back of your thigh. ”If you keep doing that I won’t be able to contain myself.”

Before you could say anything else, he dropped you on the bed and then dropped to his knees, making the two of you stand in similar heights.

“Y/N?” he whispered, moving his hand to your chin and caressing your skin.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you leant closer to him, enough for your noses to touch.

“Please,” you finally said, almost silently.

Before you could give up or move out, Bucky cupped your cheek a pushed his lips against yours, soft and careful before his tongue was involved in the kiss. It was odd, quiet, hot and sweet.

_Goodness. If you knew that kissing felt so good, you would have done it much earlier in your life._

Not even thinking of your actions, you moved your hands to pull him closer and Bucky’s hands wrapped on your waist, pulling you close to his body until the point you were sat on his thick thigh.

“Damn doll,” he hummed as his hands climbed their way up your back, pressing you harder against him and moving his lips to your neck when he noticed you becoming breathless. “ _You smell so good_.”

“You too,” you muttered back timidly, gasping loudly when you felt him nip on your skin.

Your cheeks were now not just warm but  _hot_ , and you could feel the tingly feeling on your body starting to concentrate between your legs and at the tips of your breasts.

The kisses, though, didn’t harder with time. They became calmer, and when he turned to kiss your lips once again, he wasn’t hungry but sweet.

“My princess,” he touched your nose with his, moving sweetly, rubbing them together and making you crack a small smile. “My lovely princess.”

His hands left your side, touching your face delicately and making circles on your cheeks with his thumbs, his voice not louder than a whisper when he spoke again.

“My strong princess.”

You didn’t do more than that in that night, but it wasn’t a big deal for him. When you were laid on the bed, he pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arm around you tightly.

He would need to adapt to you, learn your way of doing things and proceed, so things would work. It  _needed_ to work, he couldn’t fail. It would be a long journey.’


	9. VIII

Bucky stood silently by your side as the painter sketched the two of you. He’d taken several pictures with his camera and was now taking more notes and details of the two of you. He’d had you sat on a chair with him behind you, and you looked lovely, though the two of you were growing tired of all the angles he wanted to take.

“How many hours have we been here, again?” he whispered to you.

“More than I expected,” you answered in the same tone, eyes moving to the closest clock a few steps from you. “At least you can still feel your legs.”

He held back a smirk, imagining if ‘ _legs’_ was what you really meant or if you had changed the part of your body in order not to sound vulgar.

“He has enough pictures to fill the walls of the castle,” he joked and you cracked a little smile. “Do you think we’ll be done by dinner time?”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling a bit, and the two of you only noticed the painter was watching when you heard his camera clicking, going back to your previous posture.

“Thank you, your royal highnesses,” he stepped back. “I’ll have the first sketch back in ten days.”

You nodded politely, standing up and straightening your skirt.

“Do you have anything to do this morning? My brother is leaving in this afternoon and I’d enjoy spending some time with him and Peggy.”

You frowned.

“Peggy?”

He looked at you for a moment, confused, but then laughed. Of course, you didn’t know her as Peggy.

“Margaret. His wife,” he corrected himself. “Sorry, it’s… It’s a nickname.”

“Like Bucky.”

“Yes, like Bucky.”

You walked to his side and he offered you an arm, walking the two of you to the room side of the castle Steven was and seeing how everything was already packed.

James was younger than Steve for one year and two months, but you could place at least half a decade between them. The weight of any crown was heavy, and you knew it was the reason he looked like that. He was a serious man that reminded you of the old pictures of your late grandfather – King Howard III – but with a softer posture.

“Is Bucky being good with you?” Margaret questioned you, looking at you sweetly.

“He is an amazing man,” you affirmed. “I don’t have any complains.”

She smiled, glancing at her husband for a moment and you did the same. On the other side of the room, the two brothers were talking with serious expressions but opening smiles from time to time.

“We know how hard the decision was on you, Y/N,” she affirmed. “Marrying someone you barely know, bring this person to your country, to your family…”

You looked down at your hands, not sure of how you were supposed to respond to her words. It was your choice, after all. No one had forced you to marry James and your father had even tried to make you give up several times through the months you’ve spent organising the wedding and even on the way to the church.

“We need you,” she reached out, covering your hand with hers and making you look up at her face. “We need your help, your father’s help,  _any help we can get._ Our country is fighting hard to survive this war and what you’re doing is more than anyone would ever do for people you’re not even responsible for.”

Hesitantly, you covered her hand with your free one, squeezing it in comfort.

“Thank you,” she looked right into your eyes. “Thank you so much.”

You glanced from her to the men away from you. You couldn’t say you weren’t having anything back in the occasion. Bucky was a good person and a handsome man, and he seemed to be the best you’d get in your situation.

“You are very welcome.”


	10. IX

It pained Bucky to see his brother leave, you could see that clearly even if he didn’t say anything. They were close, probably best friends and always together as they grew up and you couldn’t imagine how it felt to him to see him leave.

“Do you think we can visit them?” he questioned after they were too far to be seen. “In some months, maybe? Half a year?”

“Of course,” you nodded, turning to look at him. “We can talk to our private secretary and schedule a visit if the finances and time allows. We still need to resolve the military part, ship our tropes, decide things.”

He frowned.

“We?”

“Well…” you turned your eyes away. “Me.”

He didn’t seem to understand.

“Why would you?”

You looked at him, this time being the one confused.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you said back. “I’m the future queen, I have things to do.”

He seemed taken back by the answer and you couldn’t help but wonder how much involvement he and his brother had in his father’s reign.

“Oh.”

You stood in silence, stepping back into the castle and listen to him following you.

“What do you do?” he spoke again, making you look back.

“Beg your pardon?”

“What do you do?” he repeated, talking fast. “Do you take decisions? Do you join meetings? Do you create laws?”

You stared at him in surprise, both by his rushed words and his clear curiosity.

“I do join my father doing meetings and no, I don’t create any laws. I  _learn_ ,” you pointed. “I learn what the people need and what I’m supposed to do. I learn how to speak, protocols, about the codes and… Everything.”

He stood straight, still looking at you.

“Why are you so surprised?” you questioned. “You were in line for the Thrones, didn’t King Joseph have you and your brother learning your roles?”

He went back to his usual posture, trying to hide the melancholia that his eyes expressed.

“Father didn’t want us anywhere close to him,” he muttered. “We had a tutor.”

You tried not to look at him with pity. The way he said made it sound very sad and lonely.

“Well, our children will be following me when they are old enough. You may come with us if it is of our interest.”

A question rolled to his tongue but he held back as you continued your way, following your steps with some distance.

“Y/N,” he called when he noticed you were ready to turn and walk into a room. “Do you want to dance?”

You frowned, tilting your head to the side.

“Dance? Well, I don’t see a problem.”

“It’s a date,” he smiled openly. “Meet me at eight in the ballroom and make sure you’re wearing comfortable shoes.”

* * *

You stepped shyly into the ballroom, glancing around the room and trying not to look awkward as you waited for James, opening a very small smile when your husband entered through the door opposite to yours.

“My lady,” he gave a boyish smile, taking off his hat respectfully and the music started playing, filling the room.

“Come here,” he walked to you and you felt your cheeks warming when you realised the rhythm wasn’t exactly the one you were used to.

“I’m not sure I can dance this,” you told him, caressing the palm of your own hand to comfort yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he held your right hand, resting his right palm in the middle of your back. “Put your hand on my shoulder, stay close.”

You followed his instructions silently as the song kept playing.

“Now, just to the side,” he continued, moving his feet and moving a bit back to you could see. “And spin… This way. And back.”

It took you a few tries but, eventually, you were moving around the room and just following his steps and enjoying the heat of his body against yours.

“You’re a quick learner,” your husband chuckled into your ear. “I knew you had more than a slow dance type in you.”

You hide your smile by hiding your face on his chest and when the last song was over, you just stood there. Bucky had a good smell, something manly and  _fresh,_ andyou could feel something close to oranges in him. It was hard to describe but delicious.

His hand moved slowly from the middle of your back to the lower part of it, right where your skirt started puffing, and you could feel one of his fingers playing with the start of the piece of clothing, playful but silently questioning if you consented to a more intimate touch.

Slowly, James pulled himself back, making you look at him. You were almost panting just from the way he stared at you, and both his touch and his eyes were sending shivers all over your body.

“Can I kiss you?’ he finally questioned.

“Please.”

Bucky leant down in a split of a second, kissing your lips softly and using both his large hands to hold your waist and pull you up to his height. You parted your lips and his tongue came in contact with yours in the same gentle way, slowly creating a need inside you that seemed to be moving itself to the middle of your legs.

You weren’t dumb, you knew what  _that_ meant. A handful of times you’ve felt such an urge you’ve managed to relieve yourself, but nothing had ever built you up this way.

Without thinking, you moved your hands to his shoulders and the back of his neck, tugging on the hairs there and hearing him groan very softly. It took you a moment to realise when you were moving, and you jerked away from him when you felt a table under you.

You looked in Bucky’s eyes for a moment when he stopped to check if you were okay and moved to kiss him again, tugging on his hair once again when you felt his hand resting on your knee and moving up to your thigh, pushing yourself against him without even noticing you were doing so.

When it was unbearable, you moved away, gasping for air and letting out a very soft whine when he started kissing your neck and opening your blouse, caressing the top of one of your breasts.

Every kiss of his lips felt like liquid fire being poured on your skin, lightening every inch of you up and making you feel completely irrational and  _primal._

“James,” you sighed when he squeezed your thigh and your husband smiled at your neck, yanking the side of your blouse away to fully cup your breast, caressing your nipple over the fabric. “Good god.”

“Do you like this, my princess?” he questioned in a whisper.

You couldn’t tell if he was asking to tease you or honestly wanted to know how you felt.

“Yes,” you gasped back.

“I wanted to take you to dinner,” he continued, moving his big fingers to your bra, pulling it down and releasing your breast from its confinement. “Wanted to walk around the gardens, to be like a couple in their first dates, but darling…”

You closed your eyes and gasped when he tugged on your hard nub, feeling pleasure running your body.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to be so tempting,” he said with a dark tone, licking the lobe of your ear. “So beautiful.”

You pulled your hands from his neck to hold his face, taking him back to your lips and kissing him again, rushing to unbutton his dress shirt when the sound of a door opening and a loud gasp made you freeze.

_You were still in the ballroom, for God’s sake._

“Out,” Bucky yelled before the person could say anything and you rushed to pull your bra back over your breast and button your blouse up, absolutely embarrassed as he shielded you, helping you down when you were recomposed.

“Let’s take it back to our room, shall we?”


	11. X

Bucky almost ran to your room as you tried to follow him closely, hiding your face from the staff members, sure they knew exactly what you were doing and were about to do in your room, completely embarrassed as he requested full privacy for the two of you until the next morning and slammed the door behind himself.

He didn’t wait to grab you just like before, pulling you up and helping you put your legs around his waist as he went back to kiss your neck and yanked the blouse of your skirt, tearing it apart and making buttons fly everywhere.

“Want you so badly,” he whispered. “Since that kiss. Do you remember that kiss, doll?”

You nodded timidly and he moved his hand to caress your face, running his thumb on your bottom lip.

“Do you want this?” he questioned. “We can stop anytime you want.”

“I do,” you nodded, covering his hand with yours. “I want you.”

Bucky smiled, kissing you once again and squeezing you in his large hands, trying to undo your bra while keeping his mouth on yours, only stopping when he realised the mission would be impossible. So, he put you down and turned you around, opening your bra and tracing the middle of your back with his fingertips,

“Can I?” he whispered, playing with the zipper of your skirt.

“Please,” you whispered back.

He pulled it down slowly, helping you out of the piece of clothing and stepping back when you turned around to look at him, wearing only your underwear, pantyhose and the comfortable shoes he’d requested earlier that day, resting your palms on his chest.

Your husband understood the message, moving your fingers to his buttons and helping you undoing them, never moving his gaze from yours as you slowly revealed his chest, and your breath got stuck in your throat when you saw the scars that littered his left side, starting from his collarbone and probably following his whole arm, and it finally occurred to you that you’ve never seemed him wearing more than a long-sleeved shirt, even to bed.

“What happened?” you looked at his face.

“An accident when I was a child,” he caressed the back of your hand. “I was running in the kitchen and the cooker was carrying hot water… It was a mess. It burned my whole arm. Part of it scarred. I know it isn’t exactly a pleasing vision, I’m sorry.”

You glanced at his face and then back to the injury, leaning in tentatively and kissing the scarred skin.

“You’re still the most beautiful man I’ve ever met,” you whispered, making him smile and pull you back to his lips.

“I should be the one kissing you,” he muttered, moving a hand to cup your breast and a thumb to make little circles close to your nipple.

You felt your cheeks reddening and he pushed you very gently to sit on the bed, kneeling in front of you and stripping you from the remaining clothes covering your body, kissing your ankles and smiling gently when you moved a hand to cover your most intimate part from his eyes, caressing your elbow kindly.

“Do you want to help me undress?”

You nodded shyly, and he moved closer to you, undoing his suspenders and taking it off, letting them fall to the floor as you moved forward to open them fully. When they fell down to the floor, your eyes lingered on the clear protuberance on his underwear, wondering how his pants could even hide something like that.

Bucky moved his arms to his waist, taking off his t-shirt and finally exposing his chest fully to you, and you could see how a bit more of skin was also scarred.

You licked your lips when his fingertips brushed against the elastic of his briefs, glancing up at his face.

“Go on,” your husband whispered. “Take them off.”

Your hands were shaking but you didn’t hesitate, pulling the piece down and watching as it joined the rest of your clothes on the ground before looking up to where he was  _throbbing_ for you.

_Oh, God. Is it supposed to be this thick?_

You probably looked distressed, because Bucky’s hand quickly moved to your face to sooth you.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you, I promise you.”

You nodded and he smiled at the way you looked at you – with eyes wide and hungry, and slightly gaped lips.

When he moved to kiss you again, your husband used his arms to move you to the middle of the bed and then started kissing your neck, caressing your torso with his hands and tracing a line from your earlobe to your collarbone, then to your chin and all the way down to the middle of your chest, making you pant. When you looked down, his eyes were glued to your face as he opened mouth and lied wet kisses on your left breast in a random pattern, taking his time until his pink lips were wrapped around your nipple.

You arched your back in a quick response, sighing, and you felt him smiling against your skin.

He kissed and licked your nipple until it was hard and wet, moving to the opposite side and doing the same thing. You were wiggling and squirming under him when he changed his path, descending to your belly button and staring up at you as he made a very interesting way down your thighs.

“Bucky,” you muttered.

“Do you trust me?” he questioned, taking you back with the intensity of his words.

“I do.”

He licked his lips and lied a kiss on your right thigh.

“Don’t look away.”

With that, he spread your legs, exposing your wet folds to his eyes and making you breathe even faster.

He stuck his tongue out and licked a long strip on your spread lips, making you jerk and moan in surprise.

“James!”

He chuckled at you in response, moving a hand to caress your knee.

“What do you think? Was it good?”

You nodded quickly, feeling your eyes wide while you stared at him.

“Do you want me to do it again?” he arched an eyebrow, looking both boyish and devilish with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Please.”

Bucky took your legs in his hands gently, resting your feet on the mattress by his side before positioning his head between your thighs and licking you again. His tongue made patterns on your slit with a gentle but firm confidence, and when he flicked you little nub you almost saw stars. You couldn’t control your moans. Every second, every movement, sent you far into that land where all that mattered was having more of what he was giving you.

Just when you thought he’d pulled all of his tricks, your husband surprised you penetrating you with one thick finger, making tight circles before inserting a second one, which ultimately made you close your eyes and arch your whole body. You knew that feeling – you’ve done similar yourself – but he made everything much better.

He moved his lips away, but his thumb quickly replaced them.

“Look at me,” he said in a dominant tone. “I want you to look at me when I please you. I want to hear you saying my name when I please you.”

With this, he curved his fingers, still watching you closely, and you opened your mouth widely in surprise and pleasure.

“James!”

“Right there,” he growled. “I’m gonna put another finger inside you, baby. I need to stretch you.”

You weren’t even paying attention to his words. You could feel that urge to peak clouding your mind, this time stronger than ever.

“You’re squeezing me so tightly,” he kissed your stomach.

“James,” you moaned. “Please… Please.”

He arched his eyebrows in response, licking his lips.

“Kiss me…” you begged. “Your lips…  _Please_.”

Your husband grinned when he realised what you meant. It wasn’t  _just a kiss._ You wanted his lips back to the between of your thighs.

“Yes, your majesty,” he whispered, not giving you time to process his words before going back to his task.

He gave your nub a long suck and it was exactly what you needed. With a long moan, you felt your whole body shaking and Bucky grip one of your thighs with his free hand, not moving away as you rode the pleasure.

You were still shaking the slightest when he moved to stand over you, taking his shaft in his hands and rubbing against your soaked slit.

“I’m getting in, okay?’ he whispered when you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Bucky bit his lip, moving his eyes down and you held your breath, both of your silent as he entered you. It was a different feeling, a stretch that hurt you just the slightest but nothing as close as you thought it would.

“How do you feel?” he questioned. “I’m halfway in.”

_Wait. That’s half?_

“Good,” you said between your teeth. “Please, don’t stop.”

He nodded, resting his face on your neck.

“Almost there.”

Just a minute later, he was fully sat in you, making you whine and tangle your fingers in his head.

“Fuck,” he cussed. “Doll.”

“Uh?” you opened your eyes as he raised his head to look at you.

“You just… You make me feel…”

He growled, moving once again and making you moan.

“Yes?” you muttered.

“Home,” he gasped. “Feels like home.”

He let out a groan, and you moved your hands to his hair, closing your eyes when he thrust in you once again.

He was right. It felt like home.


	12. XI

“Now, don’t you look happy?” your father joked, making your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “I heard you and James had a bit of fun in the ballroom.”

“I’m so sorry,” you started. “It was…”

“A purple code,” he grinned, looking up at you.

“Purple code?” you frowned.

Tony laughed to himself in response.

“Be and your mother had usually had some…  _Fun_ ,” he said with a bit of sadness in his voice. “So we created the purple code.”

You were surprised. Your parents had been married for just six years when your mother had died and you’d never thought about their relationship.

“You just tell the staff that you have a purple code somewhere and they won’t bother you until you leave.”

You nodded, taking internal notes.

“Thank you.”

“Now, sit down. There is something we need to discuss.”

You complied, sitting at the desk by his side.

“Here,” he pulled a paper in front of you. “That’s the itinerary for my next trip.”

You ran your eyes on the paper.

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning,” you noticed. “I didn’t think it would be so early.”

He shook his head.

“Sorry, princess,” he sighed. “But I need to go. I need to meet King George.”

You tried to remember a bit more of the man you’ve met in your only trip to the United Kingdom. He wasn’t King when you met him, just a prince.

“We didn’t go to his coronation,” you turned to him. “Why is that?”

“You were sick, I think. You got a… Stomach bug. We thought it was best for you not to take the train and I couldn’t get myself to leave you alone.”

You reached out, caressing his hand carefully. You were close to Tony, he was your best friend since your mother had died. You had bonded over the lost, completely different from any other king’s choice is raising his kids. Your grandfather barely had time with him as he grew up, and that was probably the reason your father was so different from him

“We have a reunion with the top General to confirm how many soldiers we’re sending to help King Steven.”

You nodded. Bucky’s country needed your help as quickly as possible, and having it delayed because of your wedding was very annoying.

“What about food?” you questioned. “Wait, you’re spending two weeks there?” you frowned.  

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Oh, we’re already sending food,” he corrected you. “To the poorest cities especially. The plan is sending people enough to fight and protect the plantations, cause they are literally burning everything they plant.”

You shook your head.  _Stupid Nazis._

“Is President Roosevelt’s visit scheduled?” you questioned.

“I’m not sure,” he muttered, going through the papers. “Where is Jarvis?”

The knock on the door made the two of you look up, and the private secretary that followed your father for good 20 years – and had worked with him for half of that time – walked into the room.

Edwin Jarvis was your father’s best friend, a man more intelligent than you’d ever imagined or expected. He had an answer to any question you asked and was the uncle you’d never had.

“There is the man I was looking for,” your father pointed at him. “Jarvis, tell me about President Roosevelt.”

“You’ll need to be more specific, Sir,” the man sat on his chair.

“When is he coming?” you questioned. “It his visit scheduled yet?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he moved to the table, picking a blue sheet beside your father and giving it to you. “In seven days. The castle is getting ready.”

You furrowed your brows.

“Seven days? My father won’t be here.”

“But you will,” Tony turned to you “And you can replace me.”

You looked at with eyes wide.

“Are you sure of that?”

“You’re gonna be just fine, darling. Don’t worry.”

* * *

“I think he’s hiding something,” you played with the fabric of your skirt with your fingertips.

“Who? James?” Wanda used her elbows to lift her upper body on the mattress to look at you.

“My dad,” you corrected her.”Did you know he is leaving to go to England tomorrow morning? Right before the visit of the president!” you added. “And the trip was scheduled for next month, not tomorrow. I don’t know why he would ever change its days. Now I need to be the one with the president.”

“Which president?”

“Roosevelt, United States.”

To that, all you got was silence, and you could feel Wanda’s eyes as you sat in the armchair before her, still focusing on the theme.

“Bucky said he’s here to discuss the war but I already know that.”

“The one with the Nazis?”

You nodded with a sigh.

“the US needs allies and we have a big army and incredible inventions, with Banner and his people,” you reminded her. “He is going to try his best to bring us to his side and I’m the one with the power to decide.”

She tilted her head, still watching your face.

“So you need to choose if we’re fully joining this war or not?” she questioned and you breathed deep, nodding.

“Yeah.”

You rested your body on the cushion back, breathing deep.

“I just hope I to make the right choice.”


	13. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance.

You stood silently as your father left, waving to the royal plane while simultaneously praying for him to arrive safe and sound and pictures were taken behind you.

“I hate flying,” you whispered to your husband. “He should have taken a ship or a train.”

Bucky only continued in his position, holding his hat respectfully over his chest. The camera had captured the moment your father had kissed your forehead and shaken James hand before leaving and were now focused on the two of you. It was your first official public appearance, after all. The protocol was that, on your way out, your husband was to offer you his arm and only let you go when you were beside the car.

“I’m gonna miss him,” you continued in a low tone as the two of you followed to the vehicle. “Remind me of phoning Buckingham Palace before bed tonight.

“Of course,” he nodded, but he knew he wouldn’t need to. You never forgot to talk to your father every day at least once, by phone or personally, and that made him quite envious of your relationship sometimes.

You were on your way home when you felt his hand covering yours.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You’ll be fine. You’re perfectly capable of standing in his place while he is away.”

You shook your head.

“That’s not what’s worrying me the most. “You looked through the window and seeing how people were crowding to see you.

“And what is worrying you?”

You waved to the group, putting a smile on your face.

“I can’t stop thinking about the war.”

He made silence for a moment, sighing in defeat.

“That makes two of us.”

* * *

“Darling, please, stop moving,” Bucky muttered against the back of your neck, holding you close to his body, but you couldn’t sleep.

You were naked, still feeling your insides aching from the way he’d pushed himself inside you, bringing you over the edge more than once before spilling inside you. You were tired but couldn’t sleep.

Untangling yourself from him, you stood from the bed, covering yourself with a robe and walking to the door, opening it to find one of your guards.

“Find my private secretary,” you commanded. “Tell him I want him here as soon as possible.”

The man was confused.

“Right now, ma’am?”

“ _Immediately_.”

Jarvis always travelled with your father and even though you weren’t as much as in need as your dad, you had your own private secretary, Phil. His duties now extended to you as a couple with James, and he lived in the castle for practical reasons.

“Is everything okay?” your husband questioned.

You tied your robe tighter around you.

“I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t do this now,” you tried to fix your hair in the mirror. “Put on something, he’ll be here by any moment. I don’t want to make this longer than the necessary.”

He followed your orders in silence, covering himself and taking you in his arms, hugging you in a comforting way. He didn’t know what was wrong, but it was clearly troubling you. He only let you go after you two heard a knock on the door, fixing your hair for a moment before you stepped away.

“Mister Coulson is here, ma’am.”

“Let him in,” you said firmly.

Phil walked in with a tired look on his face, and his hair looked a bit messy even though he’d clearly tried to fix it.

“Ma’am?”

“I need King Steven here before President Roosevelt’s visit,” you commanded. “It is highly important that I have my brother in law here at least a day before he arrives and he needs to be present at the official reunion. It won’t happen without the king here.”

The man in front of you nodded obediently.

“Do you mind if I ask why, ma’am?”

You shifted your weight from one let to the other, sighing heavily.

“There is a high possibility of our country officially joining the United States in the war against the Nazis,” you affirmed. “But I have a deal to propose, and it involves King Steven’s country too.”

You felt Bucky tense behind you and moved your hand to hold and squeeze his.

“Do you have the power to decide that?”

“I do,” you confirmed and your private secretary finally nodded.

“I’ll give him a call immediately.”


	14. XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

Bucky had to hold himself back from leading the conversation when you and Steve started to discuss the war. When he was still home and he was a sergeant, they would discuss matters of war and deals with other countries, but that wasn’t his role or duty, not anymore.

You looked tense while talking to your brother in law about the plans of making his country one of the exigences for yours to join the war. Your country was bigger and had more resources but joining the United States meant changing your focus from helping Steve’s, and you needed to be sure they had what they needed.

“You look… Close,” Peggy pointed, walking to his side. “The two of you.”

“We are, actually,” he confirmed. “We are trying out best. She is very kind and sweet when you get to know her.”

“Oh?” the queen arched an eyebrow at him. “What else?”

“Very strong,” he shrugged. “And honest. She doesn’t sugar-coat things.”

“Well, you owe me now,” she reminded him. “That’s exactly what I told you.”

He chuckled, taking a breath. He could remember very well.

“Yes, you did.”

Their eyes turned to you again.

“She is a queen already,” he whispered. “She talks like one. Acts like one. Looks like one.”

Peggy moved by his side, the question playing in her head once again.

“When she is a queen, what does that make you?”

James froze. He’d actually never thought about that before

“I have no idea,”

When he married you, he assumed he would be a king whenever you ascended to the throne. His great-great-grandmother – Queen Victoria – was a queen and her husband a Prince, but this wasn’t England. Maybe his title was different You would be the first official queen to be crowned, whenever it happened.

“What do you think?” he muttered. “What will I be?”

“A very busy man.”

* * *

 

“Shh,” Bucky said into your ear when you let out a louder moan as he drove himself into you. “We can’t be too loud.”

It was a purple code, a very pleasant purple code.

Your skirt was pushed up to your waist and your face was hidden in James’ neck, and you were trying hard to keep your voice down while he pounded into you, holding you up against the wall, his long arms holding you tightly against his body.

You knew no one would be entering and interrupting you, but with visitors in the castle and new people walking around the corridors and Phil probably waiting outside for you to finish your ‘personal’ subject of conversation, you didn’t want to make things more embarrassing. This wasn’t even supposed to be happening, but when Bucky showed up and one kiss led to another and then to other stuff, you didn’t think before wrapping your legs around his waist when he pulled you up.

“Faster,” you whispered when you felt him poking the special place he’d managed to find inside you, tugging on his hair and arching your whole body against his. “ _Bucky._ ”

Your husband groaned in response, holding you tighter and panting in your ear.

“So good, baby doll,” he let out in a soft whisper. “You always feel so... fucking… good!” he emphasised his words with hard thrusts. “I’m gonna… God, baby.”

His hands squeezed your thighs – where he’d been holding you – as his thrusts became more irregular but harder, and you panted when you felt him spilling inside you.

The two of you panted for a long moment before Bucky started kissing your face and neck gently.

“You didn’t finish,” he muttered, sounding guilty, and you pecked on his lips.

“It’s okay.”

But the moment he moved to pull himself out of you, your walls throbbed to get him – or any stimulation – back, making you close your eyes. Using the moment, James carried you to the desk, lying you on the surface and spreading your legs, and before you could protest he was already sat on your chair, feasting in your wetness and not caring about how his own spend was mixed with it.

Your lips parted open in response, your mind completely forgetting about how you were locked there for more than five minutes already. You reached your climax with a mute exclamation, only grounded by how Bucky’s large hands pinned you down on the desk.

Your husband stood up from the chair with a grin on his face, straightening his clothes as you sat up, trying to recompose yourself.

“I see you at dinner, then,” he tightened his suspenders, reaching out for his suit and offering you the dark tissue he kept in his pocket. “Any request?”

“I want salmon,” you cleaned your thighs, shivering for a moment, still sensitive, and fixing your underwear.

“I’ll talk to the cooker,” he walked to the door, waiting until you were on your feet and descent before opening it, stopping when he saw Coulson waiting.

“Phill,” he smirked.

“Seven minutes, sir,” your private secretary checked the clock, making him grin even more.

“I guess you have three more minutes to do whatever you want. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Coulson


	15. XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

“Did he receive the protocols?” you questioned Coulson, reading the document in your hands. It was the President’s schedule, from his landing in just a few hours to his departure, days later.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” you looked up at him. “We don’t want another visitor calling me queen, do we?”

Phil just chuckled. The last visitor you had, had thought you were your father’s wife, and the moment was very uncomfortable.

“Where is he staying?”

“In the castle, ma’am, his wife and his party as well,” he informed you.

“Can I see the numbers?” you requested.

He complied silently, waiting while you read the estimative of food and spendings.

“Remind my husband know about this too,” you pointed at the paper. “He’ll be with the queen and the first lady while I’m with the king and the president, I want to make sure they are as comfortable as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall with a sigh as you noticed time had already passed. The president would be in the castle in a few minutes.

You were already dressed, and Bucky instantly moved to your side the moment he entered the room.

“Nervous?”

“A bit, yes,” you breathed deeply. “Where is Steven?”

To answer your question, the king and his wife walking into the room, both looking rather nervous behind the serious facade.

“Come,” your husband offered you his arm, which you took before you all walked through the main doors of the castle. You and James stood a few steps before Steven and Margaret. He was a king, but this was  _your_  home after all.

The president was paralysed from his waist down and you couldn’t tell if he was comfortable or not in his wheelchair, although it wasn’t in your place to say anything about it.

The car pulled out and you waited silently as the president left the and was put on his chair, and his wife stood by his side. You were properly introduced – titles and all – and soon the two groups divided, with James and the two women leaving the three of you alone before you entered the conference room, offering the tea and goodies.

“Won’t your husband stay, ma’am?” the president questioned when the doors were closed.

“His duty is a different one, sir,” you pulled yourself a chair, sitting down and removing your gloves, and Steve did the same by your side. “Now,” you crossed your hands over your lap. “Shall we begin?”

* * *

 

Bucky paced in front of the room you were locked in. You were there since earlier that morning, and even your lunch was in there. He hadn’t even had dinner yet and it was almost midnight. Peggy and Eleanor had eaten together but he couldn’t bring himself into eating without you as his stomach twisting and turning in nervousness,  something he hadn’t felt since the day you got married.

When you left the room finally, you didn’t say a single word towards him, walking away in a firm and steady pace, which was enough to tell him about how that’d go. The moment Steve left, though, he held his brother right away.

“So?”

“Deal closed,” his brother sighed. “Where in war, all of us.”

He turned his way to follow you in quick steps, grabbing your hand and walking by your side in a comforting gesture. When you stopped in an empty corridor, he wrapped his arms around you.

“Go to our room,” he whispered. “Take a bath, let’s it something. You need to rest.”

You accepted his affection, but not the suggestion.

“I need to find Coulson and talk to my father,” you reminded him. “Talk to the kitchen and ask them to prepare our meal, I’ll be there when I’m finished.”

“How long?”

“20 minutes.”

He followed you with his eyes and you continued to walk into your office and rubbed the side of his own head.

His hair was a mess already, long strands falling on his forehead and out of the careful style, but he didn’t care.

_God, please, help us._


	16. XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

Bucky’s hands felt like heaven on your scalp, as he massaged and scratched with the slightest with his short nails.

“He’d sent the servants away for the night but not for the reasons anyone expected. He needed details of what had happened in the conference room, and you needed to be eased away from the tension.

“What was the deal?” he questioned softly. “I mean, with the president and Stevie.”

You shifted on the bed, looking a bit more uncomfortable again.

“Steve needs to be under the US’ wings,” you whispered. “He needs protection. Food, soldier… You know that better than anyone else.”

He hummed in confirmation. He was losing sleep since the two of you talked to Phill. He wasn’t their prince anymore but still cared about his people.

“Turn around,” he whispered. “Lay on your back, I’ll remove your towel.”

You complied silently and your husband removed the towel that covered your nakedness from his eyes, making your cheeks burn in embarrassment. It didn’t matter that he’d seen you like that several times, you still felt like a teenager with a crush whenever you were around him, especially in moments like those.

Soon, the smell of coconut filled the room and made you close your eyes and breath in deep. His warm hands lied in the middle of your back, slippery and skilled and enough to make you shiver. Bucky had once massaged your shoulders and proven himself to be amazing with his fingers, but this was a new experiment. You had plastic under the sheets and a whole afternoon alone after he’d convinced you of taking some time to yourself, as Steve and Peggy were spending the day with the President and his First Lady.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, moving his hands to your left side and squeezing it. “Soft… _”_

You smiled shyly and closed your eyes.

“Do you think they will do it?” he made firm circled with his thumb on a spot that seemed very had right on your back.

“What?”

“Protect him.”

You frowned.

“It was signed in an official document,” you said like it was obvious. “If they don’t, we back away,  _instantly_.”

He hummed softly in confirmation, focusing on your body and you felt your eyelids heavy.

“How do you know how to do that?” you questioned groggily.

“I thought it was a good skill,” he chuckled. “So I decided to learn with some professionals.”

You moaned softly in acknowledgement and bit your lip when you felt his hands drifting down your lower back, and he kissed the back of your neck.

“Now, let me help you, will you?”

You gasped when you felt his fingers on your bottom, squeezing it, and giggling.

“What?’ he chuckled. “You have a nice bottom,” he squeezed it again in emphasis. “Don’t you know that, darling?”

He moved smoothly closer and you yelped when his fingers moved dangerously close to your folds.

“Especially when it is right there when I please you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a more seductive tone. “At the reach of my hands.”

Your lips parted open in a long – but low – moan when his thumb circled the button over your slit and two of his fingers penetrated you.

“ _Bucky_ ,” you whispered.

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing your thigh.

You complied, closing your eyes shut, and he continued softly kissing your skin.

Bucky spread your legs delicately, finally laying a kiss right between them and making you sigh and spread them a bit farther apart.

“Close your eyes, my love,” he whispered just a few inches from your most sensitive point. “I”ll take very good care of you.”


	17. XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

Margaret’s nervousness was rubbing on you from the moment she stepped into your office. Her posture was stiff and her cheeks red, and you swore you could see a self-inflicted biting mark on her bottom lip.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked shyly sat on the other side of your desk. “A state secret, maybe?”

You dropped your pen, pushing the budget aside and directing your attention fully to her.

“Will it cost me my life?”

Margaret shook her head and you pointed at the sofa in front of your favourite armchair for her to sit, ringing your bell and smiling politely to the staff member who came to assist you.

“We’ll have some treats and tea, please.”

He nodded, leaving, and you eyes your armchair before sitting on the sofa, as close to her as you could.

She breathed deeply and nervously. You and Queen Margaret weren’t close or even friends. She was your sister-in-law and a royal from another family. That at all.

“You can’t tell Steve. Not yet, I want to do it myself. And don’t tell Bucky too.”

You nodded.

“Of course, I’ll keep any information to myself.”

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, looking terrified. “15 weeks, according to the doctors.”

* * *

 

You were surprised. Those were supposed to be good news, right?

“That sounds wonderful!” you exclaimed.

“I know,” she said back in an alarmed tone. “But we are in the middle of a war! Do you think it’s wise?”

You hesitated. You were, indeed, in the middle of a war. However, it wasn’t like last century, when men – especially kings – had to face the enemy with swords and shields. This was was to be won with soldiers and guns.

Margaret was the kind of queen everyone said your mother had been. She was British, a countess so far from the crown she hadn’t once spoken to the king before marrying one herself. There was no intention of ruling in her, but every other quality of a queen consort sipped through her non-stop.

She was wise and fierce, but soft-spoken, and very charismatic.

“It’s not the best situation,” you affirmed. “But it’s not the worst. It will certainly bring the greatest joy.”

She took a long breath and closed her eyes.

“I’m just terrified.”

You reached out, covering her hands with yours and squeezing softly.

“Don’t,” you tried to comfort her. “You will be just fine.”

You pondered for a moment, but moved closer and enlaced her in a hug, which she returned after a few seconds.

You pulled away when you heard a knock on the door, allowing the staff members to enter and serve tea to the two of you.

“Thank you,” you muttered politely, waiting for them to leave in order t return to a subject.

“The doctor said I may be able to hide far less than a month, but I’m already showing,” she continued. “I’m surprised Steve hasn’t noticed yet.”

You couldn’t lie, you were equally surprised.

“How do you manage to hide the changes from him?”

“Well, I keep the lights off,” she sipped her tea. “Steve is too sweet to even ask why.”

You didn’t respond to that. Bucky loved seeing you.  _All_  of you.

“Are you thinking of names?” you offered her a smile, and her face lightened up.

“Plenty!” she said with excitement in her tone, blushing when she realised that, lowering her voice level. “Boys are girls alike.”

“Well?” you smiled.

“Sarah, Elizabeth, Mary or Charlotte if she is a girl,” she listed. “I don’t have an order. I think Steve may suggest the first, because of the Queen Mother.

You nodded.

“And Christopher as a first name if it is a boy. It’s Steve’s second name and we always said we would use it in our first boy.”

As she spoke, you could see as her eyes glowed in excitement and couldn’t hold back a smile. Margaret would be a great mother.

“What about you?” she turned the subject to you. “Are the two of you holding back because of the war?”

You gave her a shrug, relaxing on your spot.

“We aren’t holding back,” you sighed. “But… I don’t know. A little prince or princess would be a big change in our lives.”

She arched you an eyebrow and you could almost physically feel the words you’ve spoken to her back to you.

“Does he say anything about it?”

You shook your head.

“No mentions. We are not… You know,” you searched for words. “I don’t know him much,  _he_  doesn’t know me much. At least not as we both want and should. Sometimes, we are the best of friends, but some days… Well, we are two strangers.”


	18. XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

You wrinkled your nose to the piece of pie in front of you like it was poisonous.

“Are you okay, darling?” Bucky questioned, raising his eyes from his own plate. You were dining, Steve and Margaret had left just that morning and your father was due to land after tomorrow’s lunch, and as the castle cleaned the mess the Americans made and prepared for the return of their king, you were feeling rather strange.

“What is this?” you turned to the staff man a few steps from you.

“Shepherd's pie, ma’am,” he explained. “Do you wish me to list the ingredients?”

“No, thank you,” you said politely, trying not to cringe. “Can you return it to the kitchen, please?”

He pulled the plate away obediently.

“Any requests, ma’am?”

You shook your head.

“I’m not hungry,” you sighed. “Than you.”

“Are you okay?” Bucky questioned. “Do you feel ill?”

“I’m exhausted,” you sighed. “Will you take too long? I want to go to bed.”

You husband was surprised, you’d never rushed him before, not even on your worst days.

“I’ll be finished in a minute.”

You relaxed on the chair, pinching the bridge of your nose. There was a headache emerging for you and you just wanted to be in your bed before it could surface and spoil your night.

Your husband finished his pie at a fast pace, and both of you left to your room silently.

The moment you were lied down, James’ hands pulled you close and you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Good night,” he whispered, kissing your cheek.

“Good night.”

* * *

 

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for the aeroplane to open. Behind you and James, the cameras were ready to capture the moment you’d seen your father after two weeks apart.

“You’re squeezing my hand very hard, doll,” Bucky whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you muttered. “Just… Just miss him, that’s all.”

Your husband gave your hands a short squeeze.

“We are minutes away from seeing him,” he reminded you. “Don’t worry.”

Your eyes lightened up when you saw your father stepping out of the plane and on the stairs, and Bucky immediately removed his hat in a sign of respect, placing it over his chest. When he stepped in front the two of you, you didn’t remember any discretion and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“I take that as you missed me,” he said in an emotional tone, and you sobbed softly, which made him hug you tighter. “Don’t cry, darling. I’m back. I’m home now.”

* * *

 

“Tell me about the visit,” you said eagerly as soon as you were together again.

“The United Kingdom never changes,” he smiled softly, sitting down in his armchair as people served you some treats. “Princess Elizabeth and Margaret are adorable as ever, King George still smokes like a chimney… He and Queen Mary sent you a gift,  it’ll be in your room as soon  as I unpack.”

You confirmed with a hum. Winston Churchill had been in your wedding representing the royal family when they couldn’t show up.

“I need a meeting with you and the prime-minister tomorrow,” he told as if he’d just remembered that. “Bring Coulson and James, please.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Just catching up on the latest weeks,” he said dismissively, but you could see something was wrong. “Don’t worry about that.”

He reached out and took your hand in his, lacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.

“Things are boring when you’re not around.”

“Well, you were the one leaving for half a month,” you reminded him. “Not me.”

Tony shook his head.

“I won’t do that again, I promise.”

“Good.”

Eventually, you had to leave him to find James and have dinner. You were hungry. Nervousness had made you nauseous the whole day.

You stopped on your tracks when you suddenly felt your head light and ears buzzing. It wasn’t the first time you had those dizzy spells, and they were becoming fairly annoying.

“Ma’am?” you heard by your side and a hand came to support your body. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have time. Before you could do so, your knees gave out and the world went dark.


	19. XVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

“She’s coming back,” you heard a familiar voice by your side, and a warm hand came to rest on your face in a touch filled with affection.

“Doll?” Bucky called you, and you soon recognised the hand as his. “Doll, can you hear me?”

Something warm squeezed your finger and you felt something cold on the curve of your elbow, blinking several times to adjust your eyes to the light above you while your eyes started to work.

When you opened them, at least, Bucky was staring back at you.

“Hey,” your husband let out a breath, sounding relieved. “How do you feel?”

“My head feels hot,” you confessed, still a bit groggy. “What happened?”

“You were unconscious,” you heard a voice, instantly recognising as Dr Banner. He was the leader of the team of scientists your country owned and a close friend of your father, helping your family in emergency situations. “Your blood pressure dropped. We were all really worried.”

You tried to remember the incident, but simply couldn’t.

“Is that the first time happens?” he questioned., directing his attention fully to you.

“I’ve been having some dizzy spells lately but… Haven’t paid much attention to them.

The man looked worried.

“For how long?”

“A month?” you tried to remember. “Maybe a month and a half. I can’t tell.”

He eyed your father and then your husband, both looking extremely worried.

“I believe you should call your doctor,” he recommended. “When did you two got married again?”

“Five months ago,” you glanced at Bucky for a moment. “Almost six.”

He nodded slowly,

“Any other symptoms?”

“Headaches,” you added. “Very annoying, to be honest.”

Bruce stood in silence, probably thinking to himself, and walked to you.

“I’m gonna need a blood sample,” he decided.

“Do you have any guess?” your father questioned.

“Not really but… Well, it can be a dietary problem or something serious, it’s best to investigate,” he walked to you and reached out close to your arm. “May I?”

He took the sample and said his goodbyes, giving you recommendations and leaving, assuring the results would be back soon. Your father left following him a bit later, and you were soon alone with Bucky.

“You scared me,” he said, reaching out to caress your face. “Are you feeling better? I’m gonna have dinner brought to us here, you are gonna rest now.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Bucky shook his head.

“I’m your husband. My job is to take care of you,” he gave you a small smile. “You need to be more careful, these symptoms can’t be ignored.”

“It’s probably just an iron deficiency,” you assured him, holding his hand and kissing his palm. “You’ll see. Nothing to be worried about.”

Your husband sighed, cupping your face and laying soft kisses on your lips.

“I care a lot about you,” he whispered. “I mean it. I don’t want you sick, please, be more careful?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, feeling his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “Okay, I’ll try.”


	20. XIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS, PLEASE  
> Alright, so... Tumblr has a glitch and I'm losing posts there. Now I'm posting as I write here, as a measure of security. Be ready for 5 things at once and two weeks without updates cause my creativity is kinda cray-cray sometimes. Sorry in advance. Please, try to leave a comment anyway. I don't get many of those and they mean a lot to me.

You tiled your head to the side to take in the painting in front of you. It was the one you were waiting for since your first month married to Bucky.

“It‘s beautiful,” you whispered.

You couldn’t even see the brush movements on the canvas, it looked like a coloured photograph, almost a mirror.

“It looks so real,” your husband looked at the slightly flushed painted in front of you. “You have a real talent, we didn’t meet more than twice.

“I have a photographic memory, sir,” he smiled. “I do my best.”

“Thank you a lot,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see it in its place.”

You didn’t have to wait much longer. Minutes later, the picture was already in the great room where the latest Kings and their Queens also sat.

Your grandfather, King Howard IV, was there with your grandmother, Maria. She was the daughter of an earl, a woman you’ve never met and who died in an accident along with her husband, leaving your father – much younger than you were right now – to rule the kingdom. They looked as young as you and Bucky in your photograph, and as happy together as they possibly could be. Back then, he was just a Prince, his father’s – Charles VII – heir. It was years before he ascended to the throne, a place he didn’t stay for long. When your father was 18, the two of them died in an accident, making him king. He and your mother, depicted right beside your own painting, were in the same position of the other couples in the room, looking so happy they couldn’t hide in one their faces.

And then came you and Bucky. It was the first time the throne had a female heir, and your picture showed it clearly. You were the one in the centre of the image and your husband no more than the accessory the other queens had been to your ancestors.

“You have a bit of her in your,” your husband whispered by your side. “The beauty.”

“Do you think our children will have her red hair?” you questioned. “Dad said he always called her Pepper.”

“At least one of them will,” he assured you, caressing your shoulders before holding you close by your waist. “With my eyes and your smile.”

You felt your cheeks heating up as he wrapped his arms around you. His lips moved to your neck and you closed your eyes.

“I can barely wait to start filling this place with children. Boys and girls running around, playing and bringing life to this castle. I bet they will make you smile all the time, you know I love your smile.

You sighed. Your father wasn’t asked yet, but you knew he wanted grandchildren. Thing is, you weren’t even  _avoiding_ things with Bucky. Wanda had even mentioned that you were supposed to be expecting already, so long after the wedding, and suggest tracking your period so you could try  _a bit harder_  and with more precision. Honestly, you were starting to agree with her.

Your lips were locked with Bucky’s when a knock came on the door, and the two of you separated before allowing anyone to come in, and your very friend walked in.

“Good evening, James,” she said with a smile. “I’m here to borrow your wife.”

You smiled when your husband chuckled.

“Be sure to give her back by eleven,” he said after kissing her hand politely. “We have some plans.”

“Don’t worry,” she pulled your hand into hers as he left. “You’ll have her back before midnight.”

Minutes later, you were around a table waiting for dinner while she looked a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

“So, what do you have to tell me?” you asked when you were virtually alone.

“Vis asked for my hand!” she squeaked. “And both my parents and your father said yes.”

You looked at her in surprise for a moment. Victor – known as Vision since you were all kids and nicknamed as ‘Vis’ by your friend – was Jarvis’ son, and he and Wanda were dating for a year or so after dancing around the bush for years and were the perfect couple. He was a very smart man with many degrees in things you didn’t know much about.

“That is amazing!” you exclaimed. “Oh my… when did that happen?”

“This morning,” she smiled openly. “We’ll be marrying in three months, I’ve already been measured for the dress. I’m so excited!”

At that moment, someone opened the door and a staff member entered the room, and your stomach instantly turned into a knot.

“Oh good God,” you hissed to yourself and Wanda’s eyes widened, snapping in the man’s direction. “What’s that smell?”

“It’s chicken,” she frowned. “Is there something wrong?”

“I’ve been ill,” you pressed your lips together, trying to control your nausea, failing miserably. “Excuse me.”

Trying not to bump onto the anyone or anything, you ran to the closest restrooms and kneeled by the toilet just in time to throw up. It didn’t take more than mere seconds to your best friend to be by your side, holding your hair and rubbing your back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you took a long breath.

Wanda stared at you in silence and helped to dry your face with a fluffy towel.

“Well… Have you considered that you might be pregnant?”


	21. XX

You stared at the glass cup and the bow of sugar your best friend held in front of you.

“That’s insane,” you pointed.

“Well, it’s how my mother found out she was pregnant with me and Pietro,” she affirmed. “It’s an easy method for emergencies.”

You glanced at the cup once again and then looked at her.

“We are throwing that cup away after we are done.”

Wanda rolled her eyes.

“Just go.”

You entered the restroom absolutely embarrassed, and sure whatever Wanda’s idea wouldn’t work. You urinated inside the cup the same way.

“That’s insane,” you said from inside.

“My parents were in the middle of nowhere when my mummy thought she was pregnant,” she told you. “That’s how she found out she was expecting me and Pietro. Although  _Pietro_ was a surprise.”

“He once told me  _you_  were the surprise.”

You could imagine her rolling her eyes on the other side.

“And you certainly don’t believe him, because I’m your best friend and would never lie to you.”

“Of course, darling.”

You washed your hands before opening the door with your face on fire, and she was waiting.

“It’s on the counter,” you pointed and she pulled the cup filled of sugar with her while pulling you back inside the room. “What do you do?”

“I take some in a syringe,” she showed it to you and put the smaller glass – which had a thin layer of sugar in it – besides yours. “And put on the sugar. If it dissolves, you are not pregnant. If it clogs… We have a bum in the oven.”

You bit your lip as she poured the sugar and nothing happened and frowned at her.

“How long is that supposed to take?”

“To dissolve?” she turned to you. “It happens instantly.”

Your eyes fell on the

Sugar, and you took the syringe from her hand, doing pouring some more on the crystals.

“Darling, there is no question here,” she turned to you. “You’re pregnant.”

* * *

 

You paced around the room impatiently while waiting for Bucky to get in. You’d just gotten your test results back and Wanda’s weird sugar thing was actually right. You were pregnant, 12 weeks in according to the family’s official doctor, and you  _needed_ to tell your husband.

“Doll?” Bucky opened the door. “Did you summon me?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Please, close the door behind you.

You were in your office, a small room close to your father’s own office ad right in one of the most crowded areas of the castle.

“Is everything alright?”

You fidgeted with the paper in your hands but offered it to him after a few seconds.

He looked at you, and then back at the paper as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Is that...”

You nodded.

“Yes.”

“You’re pregnant!” he exclaimed. “God, you’re pregnant!”

He ran to you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you off the ground.

“Doll, this is amazing. We’re going to be parents!”

You opened a large smile as he kissed your lips, cupping his cheeks. Repeating his words right back at him, feeling your eyes shining in joyfulness.

“We’re going to be parents.”


	22. XXI

You were thrilled,  _very_ thrilled. Now that the news had sunk, you could barely contain yourself.  You wanted to smile all the time, you wanted to tell the world that you were going to be a mother, and Bucky was even more hyped. He’d called Steven the same night you had told him the news and as soon as he was sure the line was safe and fully private, he let out the news that his brother’s baby wouldn’t be the only addition to their family.

After a week, you were ready to tell your father and release an announcement. You would have done it earlier, but you wanted Wanda’s wedding to be in the spotlight, as she deserved it quite much.

You were sat in the room with a smile, side by side with Bucky and waiting for Coulson, Jarvis and your father.

“Now, don’t you look happy?” you old man entered the room with the two of them behind him. “I guess I’m not the only one with news today.”

You shifted in your place. The feeling of something being wrong crawling your skin once again. He was holding his said  _news_ since he arrived, postponing your reunions the moment you were put in bed rest.

“You first, then,” you pointed.

“No, darling,” he smiled. “Go on. I want to hear the news first. I bet they are good, you look radiant.”

You exchanged a look with Bucky and your husband held your hand, finally letting out the news you’ve been holding for so long.

“We are expecting.”

Your father’s face changed in surprise and he looked at you with his lips parted.

“You’re pregnant?” he whispered. “Oh, darling!”

He stood up from his chairs and pulled you into a tight hug.

“This is amazing,” he chocked out. “This is so amazing.”

You nodded, squeezing him in response, and he back out, touching your face.

“Pepper… Your mother would be so happy.”

You just stared at him, cupping his cheek and caressing his skin with your thumb.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he lost his smile. “I wish I had good news to you too.”

You frowned, confused.

“What’s wrong?”

You knew it. He was hiding things from you.

Your father exchanged a look with Jarvis.

“Let’s sit down,” he decided.

The moment you felt the cushion under you, Bucky held your closest hand in a comforting sign.

“I’m afraid my visit to England wasn’t just for the exposed reasons,” he stated. “I met with a doctor. The best specialist in the world, I may add.”

You waited silently, feeling as your heart pounding inside your chest.

“I have a heart condition,” he explained. “The same condition that took my grandfather, my aunt Helena and my cousin Max away.”

“Pietro and Wanda’s father,” you added.

“Yes.”

You felt your whole world crumbling and disappearing under your feet. He was right. You would have fallen if you weren’t sat right now.

“Good news it,” he continued before you could react. “There is a surgical procedure that can fix it and I fill all of the requirements.”

Tears streamed down your face.

You wanted to sob and scream and cry, but you couldn’t. You were frozen in panic.

“Any bad news we should know?” Bucky questioned

Your father hesitated.

“There is…” he hesitated. “There is a percentage of chance that I can die in surgery.”

“What percentage?” your husband insisted.

“50%.”

You stood up, walking to the window and trying to catch your breath You were hyperventilating.

“Doll,” Bucky walked behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Leave us,” you decided, not looking at him. “All of you.”

Bucky hesitated.

“Are you sure?” your husband whispered, but Coulson cleared his throat before you answered him.

Your husband followed him hesitantly, and you waited until the door was closed to storm right in your father’s direction. Your eyes were wide and tears were streaming down your face. When you finally reached him, though, you didn’t know what to do.

So, you cried. You cried and cried, and your father held you against him with a tight grip, like the day you’d lost your mother so long ago.. When you pulled away, your eyes were puffy and your body was still shaking with sobs.

“What am I supposed now?” you questioned. “What are  _we_  supposed to do? Dad, I can’t… I can’t even think of not having you around. “

“You are prepared for it” he said quickly. “Y/N, I’ve trained you for the role of a queen since you were born.”

“I’m not talking about being queen! I’m talking about you dying!” you shouted, suddenly feeling small once again and your voice became no more than a whisper as you sat back down. “You’re everything I have.”

“I’m not gonna die,” your father kneeled before you, holding your hands. “And even if I do, I’m not everything you have. You have James. He’s gonna take care of you.”

“How are you so sure?”

Tony smiled softly.

“I wouldn’t let him marry you if I didn’t know.”

You cried and he held you like a kid. Eventually, you had to leave him and your father called Jarvis back in.

“I want her coronation to be held two months father my death,” he instructed. “Start preparing things as earlier as possible.  _Now_ is a good option. She’ll probably still be pregnant by them, so take that into account.”

“Tony, aren’t you being a bit pessimistic?” his secretary questioned.

“Realistic, Edwin,” he corrected him. “I’m just being realistic. Would you do me a favour, please?”

“Of course.”

“Take care of her too. She’s gonna need a father figure, especially with a kiddo.”

Jarvis hesitated but breathing deeply.

“In case of your absence, I’ll be doing my best.”


	23. XXII

You stood stiffly while the woman measured you and wrote them down. People didn’t know you were pregnant yet – the news of Wanda and Vision’s wedding had been announced just days earlier and you were still getting used to the idea that you were to have a child – but the official seamstresses were aware of the fact and were already preparing for the changes in your clothing.

Because of the war, you had and lowered down your spendings in the castle or cut things out completely. Wanda’s wedding dress was her mother’s gown with modifications and flowers would be taken from her own garden in Lily’s Palace – where she would still live after the wedding. The ceremony – and the party after it – would have no more than 70 people, all of them family and very close friends.

You had already decided on what you would wear that day, and the seamstresses had estimated your size for the wedding along with what you would need for the following months. Your mother’s clothes were out of fashion, but they were sent to be reformed for later uses, which included her pregnancy outfits.

You wished you could be happier for your friend. However, your mind was glued to your father, and you didn’t think it would move away at any moment.

“It suits you,” your husband affirmed and you moved your eyes to meet his through the mirror. “The colour, I mean.”

You looked at the dress. It was of a blue colour that fit your skin tone perfectly.

“Thank you.”

“I suppose I’ll be wearing a matching tie?”

“Or your black uniform,” you added. “Dad is wearing his.”

This was going to be Bucky’s first royal event after marrying yo, and the different protocols were confusing him a bit.

“I’ll talk to him,” he decided. “He’s walking Wanda down the altar?”

“Aisle,” you corrected him.

“Sorry?”

“Aisle,” you turned to him. “We say aisle here.”

“Aisle,” he repeated to himself before turning to you again. “Is him?”

You shook your head.

“Wanda has a brother. Pietro. He wouldn’t let anyone take his place.”

Bucky seemed surprised and you raised your arm to be measured. Your breasts were larger now, just enough to make dressing up a bit harder and create a heavy cleavage in your clothes.

“I didn’t know that,” he noticed. “Pietro, you said?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “He is my current heir.”

He frowned deeply

“Your _heir_?”

“Until our child is born, yes,” you confirmed. “I’m first in line of succession, followed by Pietro and then Wanda. Then...” you tried to recall.

“The Duke of Rhodes, ma’am,” the woman helped you. “James. And then his son, Prince Samuel.”

“I thought your father was an only child.”

“He is,” you lowered your arms and stepped down to walk to him, the seamstress organising her things before leaving. “But my grandfather had a younger brother and sister, they were twins. Harriet and Harry. Harry is uncle James’ father and Sam’s grandfather. Harriet is Wanda and Pietro’s grandmother. She was the mother of their father, Max.”

He let out a soft sound in confirmation, pulling you into his arms and helping you sitting on his lap with your legs on his sides.

You felt your cheeks warming up as his hands moved up and down your thighs.

“How are you feeling?” he moved a hand to cup your cheek. “We haven’t talked about your father and all that’s happening.”

“I’m okay,” you held his wrist. “Really. I don’t want to...”

“Talk to me,” he interrupted you. “Please.”

You hesitated, but he held your face before you could look away.

“I’m worried,” you whispered “I think he is hiding how bad things actually are, I think… I can’t stop thinking that he will die in that surgery.”

Your husband breathed deeply and moved his hands to hold yours tightly.

“He said himself he is with the best doctor in the continent,” he reminded you. “Let’s give him some credit.”

You just shook your head.

“I lost my mother, Bucky,” you reminded him. “I can barely remember her. If it wasn’t for the painting, I would have forgotten her face.,” you looked down, trying to hold back your tears. “I grew up virtually lonely. Everyone outside our family only approached me because they wanted something. I only bonded with Wanda when her mother moved to our city, after uncle Max’ death, and I was already fourteen. When I had no one, I had my father. We always travelled together, we always spent every single day together... Even my lessons were in his office, and I was always there for his reunions.”

You felt a single tear trailing down your cheek and closed your eyes.

“I don’t...” you struggled to continued, not because of sobbing, but because words seemed to want to be locked inside you. You’ve never been so honest in your life. “I don’t want to be alone again,” you finally whispered.

Bucky stared at you for a moment, then used his hand to raise your chin. Softly, he kissed your tears and urged you to open your eyes again.

“You won’t be alone. You will never be alone as long as I’m alive,” he affirmed emphatically. “You have me, remember? And you have Wanda, she will be living in a 5-minutes distance from us in Lily’s Palace. Jarvis is your Godfather, right? You’ll have him too. Sugar, Steve and Peggy absolutely adore you. We are a family! You’ll always have us.”

He moved his hand to your stomach and touched the place where you child was growing, even though the two of your weren’t able to notice just yet.

“We will always be here,” he assured you. “Your father will be fine. He will be in good hands. There’s no need to worry.”


	24. XXIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence on her shoe.

You turned to your side tentatively, frowning your brows and turning again.

Something was definitely different.

You’d just reached your 17th week of the pregnancy and was supposed to be helping Wanda with her dress right now, but you just couldn’t wrap your head around  _this_ right now.

“Am I showing?” you questioned, seeing Bucky reading the newspaper behind you.

Your husband raised his eyes for a moment.

“I don’t think so, darling.”

You sighed. Your clothes were tighter now, and you were honestly expecting to have your breasts ripping most of your tops or spilling out of dresses. Not that James was complaining – he was enjoying it a bit more than he should – but you didn’t know how long your current pieces would still fit.

“Well, then I certainly look fat,” you decided, putting on your shoes before he could argue with you. “I’m on my way. Wanda must be impatient already. Can you read the official statement again before we send it to Phil?”

“Of course,” he stood up, walking to you and giving your lips a peck. “Tell Wanda I want you back for dinner.”

You chuckled. He always said that.

“She knows that already,” you walked out of the room.

“And, darling,” he called before you could pass through the door. “You look as beautiful as ever. The new pounds suit you amazingly.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing the castle quickly, finding your friend in her room already dressed in her white gown.

“Finally,” she exclaimed. “I thought you wouldn’t show up. Tell me, what do you think?”

You moved your eyes up and down her figure.

“Is that the final version?” you stood up.

Wanda’s mother had had a Victorian Era inspired dress with a large skirt in lace, and tight waist and the only thing your friend had changed in it was the sleeves, that now reached her wrists.

“Yes,” she ran her delicate hands down the torso. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you smiled. “Doesn’t even look like you didn’t make it from scratch. I expected it to look yellowish.”

“It did,” she affirmed. “But the seamstress knew a couple of tricks.”

You nodded but frowned.

“What id it didn’t work?”

Your friend didn’t even look affected, shrugging.

“Then you would let me redo yours.”

You shook your head. She, only smirking.

“Has Pietro seen the dress yet?”

“No,” she turned to you. “He is on his way back from Paris. I’m sure he will love it.”

You smiled, walking to her and touching the back of the dress. She looked gorgeous.

“Are you crying?” your friend asked, surprised.

“What?” you moved a hand to your face, drying a tear from your right cheek.

“You’re crying!” she exclaimed. “Oh, honey...”

“I’m pregnant, the doctor said I can’t control it,” you reminded her. “Don’t mock me.”

Wanda only smiled, circling you with her arms and giving you tight hug.

“Go change,” you said when she let you go. “There is something I need to show you.”

Minutes later, you walked with her by your side to an important room, while your best friend and cousin seemed to hardly contain herself from curiosity.

“So,” you covered her hand with yours. “Have you gotten your stuff already? The whole…. Something old, something new...”

“Well, my dress is old, so this one is filled. The new thing is my shoes,” she told you. “And I’ll be using my blue earrings. Now, I only need to borrow something.”

You nodded and stopped in front of a door with guards.

“Close your eyes,” you instructed, and she frowned. “Go on. Trust me.”

She sighed, but closed her eyes and followed slowly as you guided her into the room.

“You’re ready?” you questioned when the door was closed behind you.

“I was born ready.”

You could see the surprise and excitement the moment she opened her eyes and her jaw fell open.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “Are those...”

“The Queen’s tiaras,” you finished her sentences. “Well… My tiaras, in this case.”

She turned to you with her lips parted open.

“You’re getting married, you need something borrowed,” you affirmed. “You don’t think I would let that pass, would you? Go on. Chose the one you’ll be using.”

Your best friend’s eyes were shining while she walked around the rooms and eyed the many tiaras before stepping in front of a piece that would fit her dress perfectly.

“Can I have this one?”


	25. XXIV

Bucky rubbed your back while you leant on the toilet, throwing up. Morning sickness was a thing you’d never get used to.

“Wasn’t it supposed to get better after the 4th month?” you groaned in annoyance.

“My ma said ginger pills could help,” he offered. “She got pretty bad sickness when she was pregnant with me, probably because I was born with a lot of hair.”

You glanced at your husband. He actually had a thick mop brown of hair over his head.

“Good to know I have someone to blame.”

He chuckled, and you washed your mouth, walking to your room just in time to hear someone knocking on the door.

“Mister Coulson is here, ma’am.”

“Let him in.”

When you and Bucky got married, there was an official statement that commonwealth shouldn’t send you any wedding gifts, as they would be returned with a letter recommending the people to save their resources thanks to the war.

When you announced your pregnancy, though, you didn’t think of making an announcement. With everything happening – your pregnancy, your father’s heart condition and Wanda’s wedding – you even didn’t remember you had to release the statement, and no one reminded you

“Sir, ma’am,” Phil entered the room. “Good afternoon.”

“Is everything okay?” you questioned quickly. “Is my father alright?”

“He is alright, ma’am,” he assured you. “My visit has a different goal.”

You stood straighter.

“Well?”

“There is a room full of presents waiting for you to decide what to do with them.”

You frowned.

“Presents?”

“Many are for the babe, ma’am,” he explained. “You should come and see. “

You followed him hand in hand with your husband, and your jaw fell open when you entered the room, seeing the several packaged with different shapes and sizes.

The number was impressive. Just from looking, you could estimate that at least two-thirds of the families in your country had sent you something.

“The presents from family members were sent to the baby’s nursery, but we need a destiny to those.”

You moved your hand to cover your mouth, feeling tears filling up your eyes.

“Darling?” Bucky whispered. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer, trying to calm yourself down.

“We can’t accept that,” you affirmed. “Not from the people. They need to save their money.”

“That’s all baby stuff, darling,” your husband reminded you.

“They may have children. Their wives or daughters or sisters or neighbours. We can’t take those presents.”

You turned to face your private secretary.

“Send those back with a refund and a letter saying we are very grateful but we can’t keep them. Tell them to save the presents for those in need of them and that we appreciate their gesture. Use my branded paper.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.

James squeezed your hand.

“Can I take you somewhere for a moment?”

You confirmed, and he guided you out of the room and back to your wing.

For two weeks, your husband had kept your baby’s nursery a secret from you. According to Bucky himself, he wanted to surprise you with it, and no amount of insistence could convince him otherwise.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered into your eye when you stopped in front of the door.

You complied with a smile, and he walked you slowly inside.

“Ready?”

“Yes, please,” you whispered.

He removed his hand from over yours and stepped back, and you could hear as he set up a music box before walking back to you. The soft song was playing when your husband said his following word.

“Open your eyes.”

You’d never seen such a beautiful room.

There was a big white cradle in the centre of the room, with a large canopy right above it. There was a couple’s bed in the room, a place where you or the baby’s nanny could sleep if needed, and the blue and grey colour set a perfectly calm tone in the place. Everything came in matching colours, and you could see that your baby already had toys and clothes to spare, as the presents from your family members were already set around.

“There is something I want to show you,” he smiled. “It’s from my Mama.”

Bucky walked to the toy box and pulled a wooden horse from inside.

“It was my favourite when I was a kid, she said I slept clutching it in my hands until I was 11,” he touched the object with a sort of devotion, his eyes suddenly losing their joy for a moment. “But then father took it away. I didn’t know she still had it, I thought he’d given all my toys away.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“He sounds like a very rough man.”

Your husband sighed. You’d never asked him much about his father, as he never seemed to enjoy talking about him.

“That’s what he was,” he muttered, and his eyes seemed lost for a moment. Out of nowhere, though, he smiled away. “Enough about him, honey. Come. You need to see what your cousin Sam sent us.”


	26. XXV

“But the Huntsman couldn’t hurt the princess,” Bucky whispered, his lips and nose almost pressed to your stomach. “Because she was too beautiful and innocent, and didn’t deserve such a sad ending to her life.”

He always did that. Every morning while you slept, or late at night, he talked to your bump. Ever since you started to show he was obsessed with communicating with your baby.

“So he let her run away, and she ran to the forest and found a very small house,” he continued. “And in that house, she found seven small chairs, with seven small plates of food. Snow White was very hungry, so she took a tiny bit of each plate, so no one else would end up hungry too...”

You stretched by his side, and Bucky raised his eyes to look at your face, offering you a large smile when you opened your eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

You yawned, and he caressed your skin. You looked beautiful, completely naked with your hair a mess on his pillow. At a certain point of your pregnancy, you’d considered that he wouldn’t desire you with how your body was changing, but it had the exact opposite reaction.

The fact you carrying his child only made him crave you more, and his touched were more and more affectionate and gentle, even if steamy.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily.

“Telling Snow White to the baby,” he said excitedly. “I got a little kick on this side,” he touched your right side. “And a little punch here,” he touched your left side.. “Earlier. Maybe I’ll get another one of those.”

Your baby was very active. Randomly, you would feel kicks and punches on both your sides, and you wondered how much exercise your kid had inside you, cause it felt like a lot of it.

“We have to go,” you reminded him, sitting up on the mattress. “The wedding will be happening in three hours.”

He let you up, helping you put on a robe before you went to bath, and the following hours were filled with you being squeeze into a dress that needed to be slightly fixed, covered in makeup, and all of the things you needed to finish before leaving to the abbey.

“Don’t you want to skip the heels?” Bucky suggested checking his hair in front of the mirror and turning to you.

You were both ready to leave, and you were being helped into your shoes.

“Maybe get something more comfortable? I’ve found that weddings can be exceptionally long in this country.”

That made you frown.

“So you think our wedding was exceptionally long?”

Bucky made silence, and the woman trying your should let out the smallest chuckle before standing up.

“Thank you, Cassandra,” you dismissed her, taking your purse into your hands.

Your father was already waiting outside when you left to get the car, along with Coulson and his wife – Maria, an American woman that worked in a position in the Navy.

“You look lovely,” Tony affirmed as soon as his eyes fell on you reaching out for your hand. “I have the most beautiful daughter in the world, right, Coulson?”

“Indeed, your majesty.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand.

“How are you feeling?” you questioned, worried. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m a bit tired,” he sighed. “But I’ll take the rest of the day off after the wedding. I can’t miss such a day in my niece and godson’s lives,” he reminded you. “Shall we go?”


	27. XXVI

"I, Wanda Elizabeth Ivana Sasha Maximoff, take thee, Victor Anthony Jarvis, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse: for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love, to cherish and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy law; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

Those were the words that sealed your cousin’s future and transformed her from simply Princess Wanda to Wanda, Duchess of Whitness, and wife to Victor, Duke of Whitness. Her vows were full and you could see how that fit her. She didn’t have to worry about being seen under her husband while ruling a kingdom, and that was a blessing.

You were watching your best friend and her husband dancing, completely absorbed into each other and absolutely in love,  when your eyes fell on a different place.

Besides a woman, Bucky seemed to be sharing a very interesting joke. Holding a glass of champagne and a smile you’d only seen when you were together. She was beautiful, tall and lean with plump lips and a very beautiful face. You could recall seeing her more than once, one of your cousins off ill fame among your family, always trying to wrap someone above her position around her finger to get more benefits from the crown.

A feeling completely foreign for you bubbled inside your chest, and for a moment all you wanted to do was drag your husband away from her, and only looked away when Pietro walked to you with a smug grin on his lips.

“Look at you,” he said, sounding happy. “You look...” his eyes trailed down your chest for a moment. “Different.”

You weren’t showing just yet. It was easy to say you had put on some weight and, when naked, your bump was  _real_. Right now, though, you could still hide your pregnancy easily if you wanted to.

“Haven’t you heard?” you smiled at him. “You are to become the third person in the line for the throne.”

He frowned for a moment in confusing, but his face quickly lightened up in happiness.

“You’re pregnant already? You haven’t waste time, huh?”

Bucky chose that moment to walk to you, and his smile disappeared when his eyes fell on Pietro.

“Hello,” he put a possessive hand on your waist.

“Pietro, this is my husband,” you introduced them. “James. Dear, this is Pietro. He is Wanda’s twin and my current heir, technically.”

The two men shared a long look before Bucky offered a hand for the other man to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” Pietro squeezed your husband’s hand, and you could see how it was a bit  _too hard,_ harder than needed.” _Prince_ James?”

Your husband cleared his throat. You knew what Pietro was doing.

“Just James.”

“Oh,” Pietro moved a hand to his face, pretending to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That’s… That is why I don’t know about you. I don’t know much about high society families around, I’m usually out, I’m a soldier.”

“James was part of the military too,” you added. “Before we married. Now he has a different role, of course, he can’t go around risking his life.”

Pietro moved his eyes to you.

“Oh,” he sounded surprised. “In what position?”

“Sergeant,” your husband said smugly, grinning like a cat that had finally caught the fish. “The only one under 30 back in my home country. Of course, my duty now you take care of my beautiful wife,” he squeezed you a bit with the hand he still had on you.

Pietro nodded, a bit taken back.

“Home country?”

“I was the prince of Dagra,” your husband explained, sound too proud of himself when finally correcting Pietro from calling him a high society man. “King Steven’s brother. I gave the title up to marry Y/N, though. My best decision so far, let me tell you.”

“I always knew Y/N would marry a prince,” your cousin pointed. “But I always thought she would marry me, not a foreign. What a surprise, right? She was always odd. Didn’t know she would go that far.”

Any smile that could have been on your husband’s face was gone, and you felt as his whole body shifted from calm to something very different, and maybe someone else had noticed, because they called Pietro just in time, and your cousin had to leave the two of you alone after a short excuse and apology.

You glanced at your husband before your father called your name as a new song started being played. You recognised it quickly.  _Somewhere over the rainbow._ You had danced that tune with him several times at your wedding party.

“Come, darling,” Tony offered you a hand. “It’s our song.”

You smiled, taking his hand and walking into the group of people, resting your free hand on his arm while the other was wrapped in his. His fingers were exceptionally cold.

Tony was the one who taught you to dance. It was a long process – you were a terrible dance –, but he was always patient. These days, you used every opportunity to share a moment together and dancing was one of them.

“You truly look wonderful today,” he affirmed. “Your mother would have been proud of you.”

“She would be too concentrated on taking care of you,” you joked at him. “You should be resting.”

He shrugged.

“Just one dance won’t kill me, dear,” he promised. “I would never pass the opportunity of dancing with my wonderful daughter.”

So, you danced. Not just one or two but three songs, and when you suggested sitting down, your father had a different idea.

“I want to see you wearing the crown,” he affirmed, out of nowhere.

You were confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to see you wearing the crown,” he opened a smile. “I’ll never see you being queen, right? Well, I want to see what the people will see in their future. I want to be the first to see my beautiful daughter with the crown in her head.”

You shook your head, laughing.

“We can do this tomorrow, dad. It’s late.”

He wasn’t convinced, pulling you out of the room.

“You are beautifully dressed, darling,” he reminded you. “Come. It is waiting for you.”

You couldn’t help but follow him, giggling and just going with the rhythm. Your father had crazy ideas sometimes.,and following them had always made your life better. Why stop now.

He was the one opening the door to the dining room and closing it behind you. Inside, over a pillow, the crown waited, glorious and intimidating as it had always been.

“Come here,” he reached for it after taking off your tiara, and you lowered down to he could put it on your head. It was as heavy as you imagined it would be. “Stand up, let me look at you.”

You complied and took a long breath, maintaining a serious face.

“No, smile,” he affirmed. “You have a beautiful smile, I want to see it.”

You smiled just from seeing the big grin on his lips and the joy in his eyes.

“Beautiful. You’ll be a beautiful Queen, darling.”

He walked around you for a moment, taking every piece of the image in his head before walking a few steps back to look at you again.

“Her Majesty, Y/N the first, queen of Aspa and Commonwealth realms,” he said, loud and clear. “Her Majesty, the queen.”

 


	28. XXVII

You walked your father to his room and kissed his cheek goodbye before walking back to your chambers with your tiara in your hand. From afar at some point, you could hear the party going on while you walked, rolling your eyes when you passed a very flushed and with messy clothing Pietro being followed by an equally messed and blushing woman, both of them looking like they’d just had very non-innocent fun.

You were happy you didn’t marry him, honestly. He was a good friend when he wanted to be one, but would be the worst husband. He would leave the army, of course, and while he would be geographically close to you h would never be able to keep any vow he’d made for you. He was a womanizer, always looking forward to the next woman he’d conquer.

“Your royal highness,” the woman reverenced you.

“Do you at least know her name?” you eyes your cousin.

In response, he hesitated.

“Rose,” he glanced at her, getting an angry look in response. “Lilly? Daisy?”

“It’s Tulip!” she exclaimed.

“At least I knew it had to do it flowers!”

You shook your head, continuing your way up your chambers and letting out a tired sound the moment you reached the main room.

With Cassandra’s help, you took off your dress and shoes and let out a satisfied sighed when your sleep gown was slipped onto you and your makeup was removed.

All you wanted was to get to bed and sleep. When you got into your bedroom, though, Bucky didn’t seem to have the same goal.

“Where were you?” he enquired. Your husband was still wearing his suit and had a different air on him. “I’ve been worried sick.”

You frowned.

“I was with my father. He wanted to show me a thing.”

“A thing?” your husband arched you an eyebrow. “What thing?”

You eyed him with confusion.

“Does it matter? Why are you asking all of those questions?”

He’d never spoken to you that way, and you wouldn’t allow him to be hostile to you without having the same reaction in return.

“You and Pietro disappeared at the same time,” he pointed, straight up and coldly. “Are you sure you weren’t spending some time with your dear ex-boyfriend? You seemed very intimate with him at the party his evening.”

You froze, completely surprised with the implications of what he’d said.

Your posture changed, and your eyes stared at him with so much rage you could have carved holes in his face.

You wanted to scream, to throw something at his head and questioned his sanity. Question if he really thought of you that way. Months and months opening up to him, and _that_ was how he paid you back?

You didn’t do any of those things, though. You walked to him slowly and silently and slapped him across the face with an open hand and unwanted tears in your eyes. Before he could do anything, you picked a robe and walked away from the room. You tied the belt around your waist while you were in the corridor, and avoided the fuller side of the castle. You knew Bucky was following you – he was calling your name, as his voice was filled with distress -, but you didn’t want to _look_ at him.

You stopped when you were in your office, and curled sat on your armchair.

“Darling,” your husband whispered loud enough for you to hear, closing the door behind himself. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I couldn’t… I… Please, forgive me.”

“You _didn’t..._ mean what you said?” you tried drying a tear. “You _couldn’t_ … Hold back?”

“I drank, okay?” he said, and you could feel how he was close, right behind you. “I didn’t think, I was too… I’m stupid. You could never do that, you would never do that. I don’t know what came to me.”

You didn’t look at him. You were hurt, offended and _disappointed._

“Do you want to know why I didn’t marry Pietro?” you sniffed. “Or Joshua? Or Christopher, or Thomas, or the many men who tried to cut their way around me like I was a pray? Do you want to know why I didn’t marry them but married _you_?”

He took a deep breath.

“Why?”

“Everyone wants something from me,” you affirmed, bitterly. “Every man only approached me because of the crown that will fall in my head. Because of the money, the infinite power… The possibility of becoming a king. They thought they may… Bend me and find a way to control me and the country, to get to the top,” you turned to him. “Pietro can be my cousin, but he is just like the others.”

He stood in silence. Maybe sad, maybe ashamed. You didn’t know.

You smiled a bit, not even noticing you were doing so.

“You were the first one who came to me with your cards on the table,” you finally looked at him. “You and Steve never lied to me. You never lied that you loved me because you wanted to marry me. Your intentions were always clear, your feelings were always clear. I was so used to people lied to me and you… You came with an open heart, you gave everything you had to and were completely honest.”

He kneeled in front of you, reaching out for one of your hands.

“I would never lie to you,” he tangled his fingers with yours, kissing your skin. “Never.”

“I would never lie to you,” you said the same words back. “I could never do anything that would...”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I just...”

Your husband swallowed down.

“My father did that,” he muttered. “He did that with my mother all the time, he slept around, he did… He did horrible things. I thought for a moment...”

“I’m not your father,” you affirmed. “I’m not gonna do such a thing with you.”

“I know,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I hurt you, I’m sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around you strongly, resting his head on your lap.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry.”


	29. XXVIII

You took a long breath of Bucky’s cologne, not sure if you wanted to dive back to sleep or wake up. but the knocks on your door made the decision for you.

“What’s it?” Bucky asked groggily.

“Your royal highnesses,” an urgent voice called from the other side.

“What?” you yawned.

“It’s an emergency, ma’am. Please open the door.”

You were still a bit dizzy when you wanted to the door, covering yourself with your robe and trying to fix your hair.

“What’s the situation?” you tied the belt in front of you, closing the door behind you while Bucky fixed himself.

In front of your chambers’ doors, a group of men seemed scared and in a hurry, and Coulson was with them.

“There are two situations, ma’am,” Phil seemed uncomfortable. “Your father wasn’t feeling well. He is in an emergency surgery right now.”

Your heart raced and stopped at the same time, and you had to hold yourself in order not to fall.

That couldn’t be happening, not right now. The surgery was supposed to be scheduled, if he was there right now, something was very wrong.

“What’s the other situation.”

“Winston Churchill is on the phone, apparently there is a bomb attack happening in London right now and our country may be in the Nazi’s eye as the next aim.”

You took a long breath, trying your best to slip into Princess’ mode.

“Did he say how many days we have?” you turned to your secretary.

“No, ma’am. He refuses to talk to anyone except you or your father.”

You nodded once, and your husband left the room with an appearance that was probably better than yours.

“Y/N?” he whispered.

You tried to think fast. You needed to answer Churchill right at the moment, but your father needed your attention too.

“James,” you turned to your husband. “You and Coulson start the bombing protocol. Don’t ring the alarm before I tell you to, but I need things ready quickly. Where is Jarvis?”

“With your father, ma’am,” one of the men answer promptly.

“Good, you go and if I need to know anything about the surgery, you will be the one to tell me. I want Jarvis to stay where he is,” you commanded. “Are there still any guests in the party?”

“A couple, ma’am,” the man furthest from you.

“Get them out of here, kick them if you need to. I want Pietro if he is not too intoxicated, and the Duke of Rhodes and his son too.”

He nodded, but didn’t leave, which made you arch your eyebrows.

You didn’t enjoy saying things twice, and this wasn’t a situation where second thoughts should be given.

“What about Princess Wanda, ma’am?” he questioned

“She is already in Lily’s palace, don’t disturb her or her husband. Now go.”

He complied, running from the room in a hurry.

“You,” you turned to the man left. “Take me to the phone. Churchill isn’t known for his patience.”

When you entered your father’s office, you tried not to feel a weight in your stomach.

_He is going to be okay._

You pulled your father’s notepad and the first pen you could find before sitting and getting on the phone.

“Hello, princess Y/N speaking.”


	30. XXIX

20 hours.

That’s how long the Nazi’s would take to get to the capital and bomb an unknown location. It could be one of the palaces, it could be a small neighbourhood or a commercial area. No one knew.

You turned off the phone with Churchill when the first sun rays were coming out of the window, and all of the newspapers and radio stations would be communicating the situation.

With Dagra being close enough, you’d also had Coulson calling King Steven’s private secretary to announce the situation.

The castle was preparing. The families of those who didn’t have shelters to go would stay in the castle. Schools were officially closed for two days as well as any other establishments. The hospitals would operate with high-security protocol.

“Start the bombing protocol, please,” you pointed Coulson. “I need a shower, I need to get into some real clothes. Where’s my husband?”

“He is with Prince James, ma’am,” Phil followed you. “And Princes Pietro and Samuel as well.”

“Of course he is,” you sighed. “Any news from my father?”

“He is stable,” he answered quickly. “The surgery is going as expected.”

You nodded.

“Good.”

When you reached the bathroom, Coulson stood outside the door, and Cassandra was right there to help you undress, waiting with a dark blue dress ready for you.

“Did you check the radio stations?” you entered the showed.

“They are communicating the situation and the right procedures t the people, just like the TV and the newspapers.”

You’ve never been dressed as quickly as today, and not even 5 minutes later you were already in the corridor, following him to the room where Bucky was supposed to be.

The first thing you saw when you entered was the four men leant over a map, talking loud and impatiently. When they saw you, all of them stepped back and waited for what you had to say.

“I hope all of that shouting had a good reason,” you crossed your arms. “You’ve been here since I got on the phone.”

“We are planning our retaliation,” Pietro announced. “Or at least I am.”

“Retaliation?”

“They can’t attack us and not expect us to attack them back,” your blonde cousin affirmed. “It’s...”

“Stupid,” you interrupted him. “He stupidest decision you could have ever thought about taking.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and your uncle James let out a long breath.

“Finally, someone who knows what they are talking about.”

Your cousin was deeply offended.

“What?”

“We don’t have resources enough for retaliation, Pietro,” you reminded him. “You would know if you weren’t looking for an easy lay every time you’re back home..”

The whole room fell into deep silence. No one has ever officially addressed Pietro’s habits, especially in such a way.

“I’ve already stated our position to Churchill, he’ll be sending British soldiers to us, to help and protect our most important cities.”

Pietro shifted uncomfortably, and you glanced at him and Samuel.

“I want the two of you in the main unities. You’ve already commanded one, right, Sam?”

“I did, yes.”

“Good, it won’t be new to you.”

He looked proud of the trust you’d put on him, but you were intelligent enough to know Sam was a safe choice.

Your next choice, however...

“Coulson, what about your wife? She is a Lieutenant, right?”

The man was taken back, and you turned to him. 

“Junior Grade, ma'am."

"How long?"

Phil looked a bit uncomfortable. 

"Longer than we first thought. She should be a full Lieutenant if..."

"If she was a man," you confirmed. "I need her skills in a bigger position."

You took in the thought.

“Get her file to my husband and Prince James,” you decided. “Let’s if she is fit. You two call her Captain and report whatever you decide to me in half an hour. Try to act like you are talking about a man who'd called my father's attention.”

The two nodded, a bit lost and hesitant.

“I want to see how my father is doing.”

As if someone had listened to you, Jarvis walked inside the room looking as pale as the walls.

“Y/N,” he said slowly. “I need to talk to you.”

You glanced at him in confusion but took a breath.

“Of course,” you nodded. “I’ll be back in a minute.”


	31. XXX

You played with your father’s hair carefully and slowly, feeling Jarvis’ eyes on you and the softness on your fingertips.

He was going grey, you could see it now. Many grey strands were spread all across his dark thick mane, too lonely to be seeing or perceived.

Tony was young, very young. Too young to be sick, and too young to die.

“How many people know?”

“Me, you and the people that were in the operating room.”

You breathed in deeply. He had died during the surgery and, after doing everything trying to save him, Jarvis was warned and your father was carefully stitched and dressed in a suit.

“We are in the middle of an attack,” you closed your eyes. “Jarvis, we can’t...”

“I know,” he confirmed. “But you need to make a decision. You’re the queen now.”

Your legs wanted to give up. You wanted to cry and scream, but you couldn’t.

“I can’t deliver the news now,” you decided;

“We don’t have to,” he confirmed.

“We’ll do it at night,” you decided. “When people are sheltered and reunited. They will probably bring their radios, we’ll make an announcement.”

He confirmed.

“What about your announcement?”

You ran a hand over your face.

“We can think about it tomorrow, Jarvis,” you said, trying not to sound rough but failing. “I need to go back to the preparatives now.”

He hesitated but nodded once again.

“Of course,” he confirmed. “Do you want me to handle...”

You couldn’t look at him, only continuously staring at your father. Was he supposed to look like he was just sleeping? It made you feel so restless.

“Please.”

You left the room in silence, drying a tear from your cheek and staring at a wall for a moment before moving yourself back to the other room, stopping by the door when Pietro quickly came to you.

“So, Y/N...” he said, holding his hands in front of you. “Maria Coulson?”

You frowned.

“What about her?”

He was clearly uncomfortable, shifting his weight on his feet.

“Come on, sweetheart. She is young, she is _American.”_

“That doesn’t disqualify her,” you pointed.

“But… She has kids,” he pointed, and his posture changed like he’d just said the most intelligent thing in the conversation. “She won’t be able to concentrate out there, she will keep thinking about them and… And...”

“I’m about to have a kid, Pietro,” you interrupted him. “Do you think I will forget about my royal duties because of them and doom our country?”

He fell into silence with his eyes wide.

“Maria is a Lieutenant Junior Grade, a navy officer,” you pointed. “You are a bombardier, from the army. I don’t think I need to point how you are hardly in your zone of knowledge when talking about her.”

He bit his lower lip.

“Of course,” he nodded, clearly feeling bitter. “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“No,” you stared into his eyes. “You don’t. Now if you’re done with your bullshit, I have other things to worry about that don’t involve you being jealous of a woman in a position of power.”

You moved away before he could say anything back, walking to the other men in the room.

“Well?” you looked at your uncle, noticing how he’d just put the phone back in its place. “Anything?”

“Well… She is more than capable of taking care of a department. The sovereign wants her to be promoted? She’s gonna be promoted this afternoon.”

_The sovereign._

“Do _you_ agree?” you questioned. “You know more than anyone else in this room.”

He nodded.

“I do,” he assured you. “It’s not a step in the dark.”

When you glanced at Coulson, he was smiling to himself, completely unaware of everyone looking at him.

“Ma’am,” he called shyly after a moment.

“Go on,” you sighed. “Caller her.”

_At least someone is happy._

You felt Bucky’s hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him, finding worried eyes on you.

“Can we talk?” he questioned in a low voice tone.

“Of course.”

You stood from your chair, and your husband guided you out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

“What’s wrong?”

You held back the emotions. If you started talking right now – if you moved your mind from the war and started thinking about your father – you would break down, and you couldn’t break down.

“I can’t speak of it right now. I can’t…” you took a breath. “I can’t afford to lose myself.”

He stood squeezed your hand in his, and you licked your dry lips.

“What will you be, Bucky?”

“What I’m gonna be?” he frowned.

“When I’m crowned queen,” you looked into his piercing blue eyes. “King Consort or Prince Consort?”

He made silence for a moment, and you could see how the things were playing in his mind and the information sunk down.

“I will be your husband,” he affirmed. “Whatever they make me, I’ll be your husband.”

You nodded.

“Then be it,” you took a deep and painful breath. “The announcement will be made tonight when people are sheltered and safe.”

Bucky caged you in his arms slowly and tightly, and you let yourself fall into the embrace.

“We will be okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”


	32. XXXI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God Save the Queen

You rested your back against the wall of the small bunker, watching Coulson while he set the radio and James walked to your side,

There were several of those in the castle, and everyone was spread around them, leaving you alone with your private secretary and his family, your husband and your most important cousins - those who were under you in the succession line. You wished Jarvis was with you, but he had chosen to stay with Victor and Wanda in Lily’s Palace for the day.

Sam, Pietro and your uncle James still didn’t know about your father yet. They had spent the day helping you with everything in the castle, and you hadn’t brought yourself to even say out loud that your father was gone.

“Darling,” Bucky whispered, reaching out with his arm and letting you lay on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes. Your head was pounding, and you were very close to breaking down.

In response, he kissed your forehead.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he affirmed in a whisper. “You got it. You can do it.”

“The king, who was subjected into a surgery earlier this morning, passed away peacefully under anaesthesia,” the man in the radio announced and everyone in the room, except for you, Bucky and Phil, raised their heads. “King Anthony was 46 years of age, and was in the twenty-seventh year of his reign.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to you, even the children’s, and you just closed your eyes.

“As expected, Princess Y/N will ascend as the new Sovereign. She is now in Evergreen Palace with the Duke of Barnes. The King’s last public appearance was at Princess Wanda’s wedding at the morning before his passing. His Majesty was battling the same heart disease that took the life of three another members of the royal family,” he continued.

“Most of the royal family was present in the Capital for the wedding. Prince Pietro is now heir to the throne and his sister Princess Wanda, Duchess of Whitness becomes second in succession. The Princess Royal’s child to be born will replace Prince Pietro when born.”

You glanced at Pietro, but your cousin was just staring at his own shoes.

“The Proclamation of Accession is read tomorrow. The text is...”

His voice faded in your ears while he spoke and tears prickled your eyes after a day holding them back. Your first sob was soft, but each time they came, they were louder and louder, until you were crying with your head out against your husband’s chest and caged in his arms.

“… _High and Mighty Princess Y/N is now by the death of our late sovereign of happy memory become Queen Y/N the First by the grace of God._ ”

You couldn’t breathe. Everything was spinning and closing around you. You felt like you were going to pass out.

You were Queen.

_Queen._

“ _God save the Queen,”_ the man completed.

You stood there for God knows how long, now crying silently.

When you moved from Bucky’s chest, you covered your face with your hands for a moment, picking yourself together before raising your head again, standing on your feet and walking to one of the corners of the room while the room filled up with the sound of the National Anthem.

You heard some fuzzing behind you, and turned around slowly, freezing when you realised everyone was standing up, with their hands over their hearts.

“God save the Queen,” Coulson said firmly as the anthem ended, and the four words were repeated by each adult and then the two kids in the underground bunker.

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a long breath and letting it out along with your following words.

“God save the Queen.”


	33. XXXII

The bells rang loud and steady through the whole day. The whole country was officially grieving: Radio and Television were mostly composed by stories of your father’s reign, from the moment he ascended – after your grandfather’s death – to how long his body would be in the abbey for the people to show their respects.

His funeral would be private, and several royals – from your country and others as well – were on their way. It would be held in two days, in the same chapel your mother was lied to rest. They belong together, you would never think of separate them.

Right now, you and each heir to the crown were inside your office along with Jarvis and Coulson. As soon as you turned into Queen, Phil wouldn’t be your secretary any more but would stay with Wanda and Victor and would be in line to replace Jarvis as soon as your godfather retired. 

Tradition called for the first 5 of the succession line to pledge alliance to the new King – in your case, Queen – and promise not to rebel or commit treason during the reign, everything through a document. You didn’t find it strictly necessary, it was just another tradition but still followed it.

Vision and Bucky weren’t allowed in the room – this was a thing only for the very people involved. Coulson was your secretary, Jarvis was the King’s official secretary, and they were intricately involved in the situation.

Your uncle James and Sam signed the official document without even thinking, and Wanda held your hand through the whole process, squeezing it tightly and just giving your comfort while so. When it was her time to do so, she kissed your temple before walking to the table, reading the page – written centuries ago and only modified to fit you. In the end, she signed it without hesitation. Now, only Pietro was left.

Your cousin didn’t look happy or even close to it.

“Well,” you finally addressed him after feeling his eyes burning into your forehead. “If you have anything to say, I suggest you say it now.”

He uncrossed his arms..

“You can’t handle what I have to say,” he looked away and you took a deep breath, seeing everyone doing the same and Wanda rubbing her temples.

“Pietro, please,” your uncle turned to him. “We’ve already discussed that more than once, let it go. This is not a war, this is not a battle. You’re not going to...”

“No,” you interrupted him. “I want to hear it.”

The blonde man looked down for a moment, then at you again.

“I don’t think you should be queen,” he pointed. “This all looks like a huge joke to me. A worldwide joke.”

You weren’t surprised. You knew Pietro. He had grown up with the expectations that he would marry you and mix the two bloodlines into a single one once again and share the power with you, and placate those who were against a regent Queen.

“Elaborate on that,” you raised your chin, unharmed by his words.

You’d heard that thousands of times through the years. Men on the radio, on the television, on newspapers and even right in front of you. It was nothing new. Your father never shielded you from them, much the contrary. He taught how to let them go and not be affected by them. The two of you knew you were capable and didn’t need assurance from random people. Hearing it from family, though, hurt more than you were open to admit.

“Really?” he arched his eyebrows.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I want to hear what you have to say. Your opinion is valid. I’ll just ask you to skip the parts that exclusively relate to me being a woman and not a man. I’ve heard those way too many times in my life.”

He lowered his head and bit his lips, clearly troubled.

“That’s what I thought,” you nodded. “Let me ask you a thing, Pietro, what do you think of when you think of your childhood?”

He seemed to think for a moment.

“School, some friends… Trips. Normal childhood stuff, what’s your point?” he sounded impatient.

“When I think of my childhood I remember a few things,” you pointed. “I remember losing my mother. I remember boys teasing me about how I would be dethroned as soon as my father passed away. I remember conferences, learning about everything that happened in our country in detail. I remember reunions with the parliament, the prime minister teaching me things  _adults_ don’t know yet. Helping creating laws, feeding people in shelters, sewing blankets for those who didn’t have them in winter,” you listed. “Does that sound like a normal childhood to you?”

He shook his head.

“I was born as the heir to the crown, Pietro. I was never myself, I was the future queen and that’s how they treated me.”

Your uncle shook Sam a look, probably reminiscing about his own son’s childhood.

“You have all the rights to disagree about me being queen, but that’s not going to change a single thing about the future.”

Your cousin started at you for what felt like an eternity before he walked from his spot and crossed the room, signing the paper and leaving in silence.

You turned to Jarvis after a moment and gave him a discreet nod before taking the document and putting inside a suitcase and offering it to him.

“What now?” Wanda questioned.

“People are coming to the funeral,” you smoothed your skirt with your hands. “Princes and dukes, presidents…”

“I’ll take care of their accommodations,” she offered.

“Are you sure?” you questioned.

“Of course,” she nodded. “Vision is devastated. Maybe if uncle Tony hadn’t come to the wedding and the party...”

“No,” you shook your head. “He looked sick before we left. It’s not your fault.”

She closed her eyes and hugged you again, the two of you comforting each other in a tight embrace.

“Call me if you need me,” she affirmed.

“I will.”

Wanda picked her purse from the chair and dried a tear from the corner of her eyes.

“Don’t shut yourself away, darling,” Wanda affirmed. “You need Bucky. Let him know that.”

You only nodded, not sure you had any words about that and bit your lip.

“Does it ever go away?” you questioned weakly. “The pain?”

Your cousin just looked at you. She had lost both her parents and you knew it was a bit selfish to touch the subject, but you needed to know the answer to what was in your mind.

“There will always be a missing piece,” she affirmed. “But you learn to remember the happy moments and let the sadness behind. It becomes easier with time.”

You nodded.

Your uncle gave you a nod and kissed your hand before leaving, and Sam did the same, following his father, and you were soon left alone with Coulson.

“Should I let your husband in, ma’am?” he questioned, standing up just as you sat back in the chair.

Your first instinct was to say you wanted to be alone, but you stopped yourself.

“Please.”

Bucky entered the room not half a minute later, and the two of you were left alone.

“Darling… Is there anything I can do?” Bucky questioned in a mutter, sitting by your side.

You looked at his face for a moment and stood up slowly, sitting on his lap and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. His arms caged you without hesitation, and you let yourself sob silently, finally allowing yourself to cry.


	34. XXXIII

You gave the people one last glance before stepping back from the microphone, the people under your applauding your speech.

You’d just given your first speech as a queen, standing in front of the crowd and a microphone that did broadcast you to every radio and television station through your country and small islands that composed your kingdom. Your words were calculated, but honest, and you were shaking by the time the doors behind you were closed, and Bucky was right there holding your hand.

“How did t go?” you questioned, looking at him anxiously.

“Perfectly,” he assured you. “You were perfect.”

You nodded, smoothing your black dress and covering your stomach with your hand for a moment.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered and he guided you to the sofa just a few steps from the large doors, and you covered your face right after.

“Are you sure it was okay?” you insisted. “I feel like I was clearly panicking out there.”

He shook his head.

“You were perfect,” Bucky repeated. “Don’t worry.”

You nodded slowly.

You didn’t know how your father managed to do it. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for what you had to say, expecting promises and, especially, for you to stumble or commit a mistake. The whole world was watching you and you couldn’t even think about failing.

“My mama has arrived,” your husband said, sat by your side. “She dais she is been dying to meet you.”

You glanced at him.

“Is she accommodated?” you questioned, quickly worrying about your mother-in-law. “Does she need anything?”

“No,” he said quickly. “There’s no need to worry, I’m taking care of everything about her. She just wants to meet you.”

You were feeling anxious, both from the speech and from the news. She should have shown up in a different moment. Not now, you didn’t believe you could deal with more right now.

“Where is she?” you asked, finally.

Bucky walked by your side, guiding you into the room where the two of you usually had tea, and the woman was standing a few steps from you.

“Y/N, this is my ma, Sarah,” he pointed. “Mama. This is my wife, Y/N.”

The woman looked into your eyes. She wasn’t older than your father was and, in her black dress, she seemed slender and tall. Your husbands’ eyes were the same as hers, piercing blue and just as deep as his. He had her lips as well, and her face was surrounded by soft dark curls.

Before you could give a step forward, and the woman did what you didn’t expect. She bowed to you, as low as anyone would bow to a king.

“Your majesty,” she said respectfully.

You glanced at your husband, completely confused. You still weren’t used to it and she was your mother-in-law. Was she supposed to bow to you?

“Mama,” Bucky reached out for her. ‘Don’t… Don’t do this.”

“We are among family,” you said embarrassed. “It is not necessary.”

She stood straight, looking at her son and then at you.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N,” she said, changing her posture. “I’m sorry for your loss. I wish we could have met in better times.”

You only nodded, looking around the room and pointing a chair.

“Please, sit,” you offered. Is there anything…?” you looked at your husband.

“There will be tea and treats,” Bucky confirmed.

He pulled a chair for you before doing the same for his mother and sat between the two of you just as you all fell into a rather uncomfortable silence.

“So,” Bucky cleared his throat. “How long are you planning to stay?”

“Well, Peggy is only giving birth is some months and I want to be there, so… I’ll stay for as long as I’m welcome.”

You just watched her, not sure of how you were supposed to behave. This wasn’t anything you were prepared for. You knew how to treat queens on formal occasions, but not in on personal ones.

“How far are you?” she turned to you.

“Four month and two weeks,” you sipped your tea.

“You don’t look much yet,” she pointed. “Reminds me of me when I was pregnant with Steve. The first thing that showed in my was my hips. They were so large I wouldn’t recognise myself in a crowd.”

Bucky chuckled and you opened a nervous smile.

“I figured I was pregnant with Bucky very early before I even started showing symptoms. Steven wasn’t even 3 months old, so everyone said I was overreacting, but I knew!” she opened a large smile. “And guess what?”

You looked at her expectantly.

“I gave birth to James, exactly one week before Steve’s birthday. And they grew up as best friends, so it was perfect for all of us.”

You nodded and glanced at the clock, cleaning your lips and standing up.

“I’m sorry. I have an official reunion in just five minutes,” you said, both embarrassed and relieved for leaving. “I’m really sorry. Can we meet for dinner?”

“Of course,” she said quickly. “I know how hard the first days can be, I’ve been through two kings already.”

“Excuse me,” you muttered before leaving.

The two of them watched you leave, and your Sarah moved her eyes to her son.

“She seems trouble.”

He hesitated.

“She is not very good on social occasions,” he said apologetically. “We took some time to… Get off, per say. She is lovely, I promise.”

“Don’t force her,” she advised him. “She is going through tough times, honey. She doesn’t have a mother, and now her father is gone, she is expecting and she is gonna be the first Regnant Queen! That is too much!”

He nodded.

“I know,” he ran a hand over his face slowly. “I thought we would at least have time before anything happened. She would be over 30, we could maybe have a second or third kid, maybe even a fourth one. We would be established, I would know what to do in this.”

She listened to him in silence.

“I don’t even know what’s my role for now long. Care for the kids? Be an advisor in the war? Sit up and look good? I don’t know!”

She hesitated.

“Do you want me to stay?” she offered. “Maybe just visit home when Peggy’s baby is born and then come back.”

Bucky shook his head.

“No,” he sighed. “I love you mama, but we need to figure everything out alone. Y/N closes up when she is anxious or uncomfortable. It’s already hard to have her talking to me now, I don’t want to force her, I’m sorry.”

She nodded, reaching out to hold his hand, and Bucky gave her a sad smile.

“It’s okay. I understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queen-Mother Sarah is both based on Sarah Rogers and Mrs Barnes.


	35. XXXIV

There was a painful silence around you as you walked. Bucky was a few steps after you, your family was behind him and you were all surrounded by royal guards and police. A few steps in front of you, your father’s coffin was carried in a horse-drawn gun carriage all the way from the castle to the Abbey.

The people watching you was in a sea of black, standing with their hands over their hearts and not moving their eyes away from where your father lied. You were guiding your group, facing the wood end of the coffin for what felt like an eternity until you reached the doors of the very place your parents were married and Wanda and Vision got married just days earlier.

Your focus was taken away when you felt a hand tugging on your skirt, and looked down to find a young boy. He was dressed simply, different from anyone in the parade, and you glanced at your side to see a woman calling him back, clearly embarrassed.

“Misses Queen,” he called and raised his hand, offering you a white lily, making you stared at him surprised.

“Thank you,” you said only loud enough for him to hear you, completely surprised.

“I lost my mummy and my daddy too,” he said, not moving his dark brown eyes from yours. “You’ll be okay. You have your family with you, they can make you feel better.”

You tried to say something, but you were just speechless, and only hugged the boy back when he wrapped his arms around your body, kissing his forehead just before he ran back to the woman with him.

The flower was clearly ripped from a garden, and still had a long stalk attached to it. You could see how it was just something he’d done without planning.

“Come on,” Bucky touched your lower back. “Let’s get in.”

You clenched the lily’s stalk while your father’s coffin was lowered right beside where your mother’s had been years ago. You had cried all of your tears already, and everything you could feel now was sorrow.

Once again, the national anthem was played and you could feel how everyone was looking at you. In the end, you were the first to throw a handful of dirt on the casket.

“I’m gonna miss you, dad,” you whispered. “I’m gonna miss you a lot.”

You stepped out of the abbey with the Lilly in your hands, and the cameras caught the moment you stepped out of the building and entered the car with Bucky by your side, and he took one of your hands to hold with his own.

“The people will mourn for three days,” you said, looking outside. “Then everything will just go back to how they were.”

He squeezed you in his fingers.

“I’ll be in the money now,” you continued. “And then, everyone will be gushing about out kid. And they will forget today.”

You squeezed the stalk.

“They will think of my dad as only the dead king. No more than that. They won’t remember him as he was.”

“You will,” he said emphatically and you turned to look at his face. “I will.”

Slowly, he moved his free hand to your stomach.

“We can name our baby after him,” he affirmed. “And I’m sure you won’t ever let our kids forget him.”


	36. XXXV

When Bucky entered your bedroom, you were pacing around and rubbing your own hands and fingers in a clear sign you were terrified. He was confused. Maybe it was his mother? She’d been there for a week, since the day before the funeral, and you hadn’t said what you thought of her being around. Or maybe it had something to do with being Queen? You seemed very stressed lately with everything that was coming up

“Are you alright?” he questioned, frowning.

“Are you happy in here?” you turned to him, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose up in response.

“Beg your pardon?”

“ _Happy,_ Bucky,” you have the emphasis to the word. “It’s a simple question. Are you happy? Is the life here enough for you? Would you like anything to be changed?”

“Why is that a question?”

“Why are you avoiding it?”

He hesitated, knowing you needed him to be honest and not sugar-coat anything he meant to say and bit his lips nervously.

“It’s not the best life,” he said slowly. “I love you but… I’m a stranger. Your family doesn’t respect me more than a stranger, the people basically ignore me and some people think I’m just here for your crown. It’s not what I thought it would be when I married you. I thought I would at least feel like I’m home. Instead, I’m a guest in my own house.”

“That’s not true. Wanda likes you a lot,” you pointed.

“Pietro disrespects me in front of everyone he sees when you’re not around,” he continued. “Your Uncle James even doubted my Military Patent!” he pointed, exasperated. “When you’re not there, I’m nothing. Your cousin Sam ignores me, everyone was eyeing me weird at the funeral and most of the people don’t even acknowledge me.”

“What do you want them? You me to be attached to your hip 24 hours a day, James? Because I can’t. I’m the Queen of this country, I don’t have time to build my husband’s reputation every second of the day!” you stood up, raising your voice without even noticing.”

“Give me something to do!” he yelled. “Anything! Give me something so I won’t feel like a stupid bloodsucker.”

You fell into silence and Bucky took a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he looked away. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

You just stared at him, seeing as your husband ran his hand through his hair, trying to fix the mess his loss of temper had made.

“My coronation is being prepared since the country went back to its normal activities,” you smoothed your hands on your sleep dress. “And there is a detail that involves you that needs your decision.”

He waited in silence, looking a mixture of uncomfortable and annoyed by your apparent change of subject.

“You say you want something to do. You can be King with me, sharing the same power.”

He frowned, both confused and surprised.

“What’s the decision in it?”

“You are still a citizen of Dagra,” you stood up, walking away from him and avoiding looking in his direction. “If you decide to remain so, you’ll be crowned Prince consort. If you give up completely your nationality and join the House of Stark, you can be crowned regnant King with me and your power will last for as long as I’m alive.”

He made a long silence and let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“They want me to give up what’s left of my identity so I can win anything back.”

You didn’t respond. You knew James wouldn’t be happy with it.

If it was for you, you wouldn’t ask him for such a thing and, honestly, you weren’t even thinking this was a possibility.

“No,” he said after a moment. “I don’t want to.”

You turned to him, keeping a straight face while staring at him and Bucky could see where the opening woman had become the frozen queen he’d met the first time he saw you.

“Don’t you want to think more about it?” you offered.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re the Queen. I can surely trust you to find another royal occupation for me. Now, if you excuse me, I need a bath.”

He walked away from you, leaving you alone in the room.

It took you a while, but you finally stood up and pulled your robe, wrapping it around you.

“Ma’am?” the security guard at your door turned to you when you passed to him. “Is everything okay?”

You dismissed him politely with a hand.

“Tell my husband I’ll be in my office.”


	37. XXXVI

Bucky knocked on the door hesitantly, putting his head inside to find you reading and signing papers.

“What are those?” he questioned, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyes, clearly annoyed, and lowered them down again to pull a different sheet.

“My coronation budget,” you finally said.

He shifted his weight between feet, curious.

“How is it?”

“Short,” you put the pen down. “We don’t have money so it will be televised but with the minimum attendees possible in the castle’s chapel.”

He looked at you in surprise. It was a very smart move. That way, everyone would be able to see it but money would be cut by a long shot.

“Are you here to offer help?” you crossed your arms.

“If you need me, sure,” he nodded. “But… I’m here for something else.”

You waited, just staring at him, and your husband sighed.

“My mama always said you shouldn’t go to bed before making up if you had a fight,” he said in a low voice.

You arched your eyebrows to him. That was it? He wanted to apologise just so you could go to bed in ‘good’ terms.

“I’m sorry,” he sat in front of you. “I really am. Fighting won’t resolve our problems.”

You rested back on your chair, caressing your bump slowly.

“I was just as ready as you when this all started,” you looked at him. “I know I’m not… Giving enough attention. Or trying to make everything better for you but… I don’t know how. Bucky, I have no idea of what I’m doing! I have a whole country in my hands, a child in my belly, a prince that thinks I’m just a womb with legs that can’t take any decisions and wants to take my place!” you listed. “And sometimes, I feel like my husband hates me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and you shut up when you realised what you’d just had said.

“I didn’t mean to...”

“To say what you said?” he raised his eyebrows.

“To say it in a way that hurts you,” you corrected him. “But some days you don’t even look at me in the eye.”

He didn’t give you a response, seeming too shook to say anything, and stood up and walked to you, sitting on a free spot on your desk.

“I don’t hate. Do I hate the situation we are facing: Sometimes. But I don’t hate you. Sweetheart, I love you. I know you’re going through some hard times, we both are. The whole nation is, honestly, but we need to recognise that...”

“I know things aren’t in their best place,” you interrupted him. ‘You don’t have to tell me that _again._ But can’t we just work around it and try to solve it without screaming at each other? That’s what Pietro is there for.”

He chuckled and opened a small smile at your joke, offering you a hand.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

You sighed and put your things back in the right place before taking his hand, walking behind him and melting right onto his arms when his lips touched yours, slowly kissing him back. Soon, your hands were in his hair and he was holding you tightly in his big hands.

You moaned softly again his lips when he lifted you and moved the two of you across the room to sit on the bed with you on his lap, moving his hands quickly to pull your clothes off of your body.

You couldn’t remember the last time you were intimate with Bucky, honestly. With everything that was happening, it could very well have been before your father’s death, and you just now realised how you missed his. You missed his hands and his lips, and things you couldn’t even put into words.

“Let me just...” he moved away from your lips and threw his pyjama shirt away before moving to kiss you again and trying to get your undergarments off. “Stupid clothing.”

You giggled against his lips, and your husband only squeezed your wait tighter.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he complained.

“Don’t make me laugh, then,” you chuckled, helping him. “You wouldn’t want me going around naked, would you?”

He moved away, looking like he has just heard the most intelligent thing.

“Well, that sounds like the most wonderful idea!” he affirmed. “We just need to get the place heated up, lock our doors and get everyone out of the castle...”

“Bucky!”

“What?” he smiled openly. “Darling, a gallery filled with works from Van Gogh, Da Vinci, Rembrandt… Nothing compares to the vision of you completely undressed.”

You felt your cheeks hot.

“You’re just saying that because I’m your wife,” you rolled your eyes, touching your stomach and tracing a stretch mark that ended right over your belly button. “I’m not exactly looking very good right now.”

He shook his head, holding your wrist.

“No, darling,” he moved his hands over your skin. “I’ve seen you in many ways. Skinnier, curvier, not expecting, expecting, dressed...” he ran his fingers up to the middle of your chest. “Undressed. And you always the best vision ever.”

You giggled, feeling your cheeks warm, and Bucky nibbled on the skin of your neck, moving his hands up to your breasts and massaging them, staring into your eyes.

“No,” you held his hands, making your husband freeze.

“No?”

“No,” you licked your lips. “You lay down,” you ran your hands down his chest. “It’s my time to show you something.”

Bucky didn’t even protest. He quickly moved himself to the bed, completely naked and slowly stroking himself while watching you standing in front of him.

Honestly, since you got pregnant you were sensitive to anything he did, and the image in front of you just increased your desire and the moist between your legs.

Trying to be the less ungraceful possible, you climbed the bed and sat on his lap just a few inches away from his hard shaft.

”What are you gonna do, doll?” he smirked.

You ached one eyebrow in response, holding his erection in your hand and slowly rubbing him over you, which made your husband moan loudly and throw his head back.

“Oh, God,” he moved your hands to your legs, caressing your skin. “Are you sure, pretty baby?”

“Couldn’t be more certain of something,” you flipped your hair back, moaning softly while you stimulated the special pearl between your legs.

Gently, you lifted yourself and slowly let him penetrate you.

“Oh, baby doll,” he thrust his hips forward. “This way you’re gonna kill me.”

“Do you want me to stop?” you smirked.

“No!” he grabbed your hips. “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.”

You giggled, resting your hands on his muscular chest.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”


	38. XXXVII

You swallowed down dry and completely a mess of nerves, keeping a straight face as you knew the camera focused on your face.

‘ _Slow breathes. In, and out,’_ you reminded yourself mentally.

The place wasn’t as full as any of the coronations before yours had been, but the war didn’t allow you to do like the other kings before you did. You were all in the castle’s private chapel, only big enough for the guests and the people that needed to be there, which was converted so the cameras and the TV crew could fit their equipment and everything they needed.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the Great Kingdom of Aspa, Abras, San Marino, and Southern Islands, and of your Possessions and other Territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?” the archbishop questioned.

“I solemnly promise so to do.”

You could see Bucky with the corner of your eye and wished he could be on his knees with you. Of course, he couldn’t. This was something you had to do alone, and this was something _you_ needed to promise.

“Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?”

“I will.”

He offered you a hand, and you stood on your feet, still facing the archbishop and now every other important man watching you, and the anthem started playing around you and someone removed the crimson robe around your shoulder, allowing you to walk to the coronation chair.

Your family was facing you now, and every important monarch that had made it on time. Their eyes were on you, waiting and watching, and you just wanted it all to be over.

You knew the television wouldn’t show this part of the ceremony just as someone covered your surroundings, leaving you around and the archbishop virtually alone.

He took the consecrated oil and anointed your hands, your forehead, and over your heart.

Once this was over, your surroundings were uncovered and you could hear a long breath everyone released at the same time. The man in front of you helped you kneeling down once again, and recited a prayer.

“You kneeled as princess Y/N,” he announced. “Stand up, as Queen Y/N, the first.”

Holding his hand discreetly, too heavy to do it on your own, you stood on your feet and sat on your chair. It was almost over.

You were robbed again, more than once, and received your Crown Jewels for the first time, which included a ring to go along with your first wedding right. This time, you were married to the nation above your husband.

“Oh God, the crown of the faithful;” the Archbishop raised his arms. “Bless we beseech thee and sanctify this thy servant our queen, and as thou dost this day set a crown of pure gold upon her head, so enrich her royal heart with thine abundant grace, and crown her with all princely virtues through the King Eternal Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

You were staring forward when the crown was put on your head, feeling heavier than the day your father had asked you to try it on in front of his eyes.

“God save the queen,” the guests said loudly, all together. “ God save the queen. God save the queen.”

The Archbishop stared you once again.

"God crown you with a crown of glory and righteousness, that having a right faith and manifold fruit of good works, you may obtain the crown of an everlasting kingdom by the gift of him whose kingdom endureth for ever."

And the guests echoed.

“Amen.”

The choir started singing once again, and you moved from the coronation chair to your throne, listening as another prayer was said. The archbishops and bishops moved in front of you, swearing their alliances to you and blessing you once again before the 5 next people in the succession line stood and walked to you.

“I, Pietro, Duke of Maximoff, do become your liege man of life and limb,” your cousin stared into your eyes. “And of earthly worship; and faith and truth will I bear unto you, to live and die, against all manner of folks. So help me God.”

Wanda came after him, then James, Sam, and your very-distant-cousin George.

You were sat when Bucky crossed the chapel, looking directly at you as he gave each step. No one had ever made what you were making now.

Your husband kneeled in front of you, staring into your eyes as his words left his lips.

“I solemnly promise and swear to help you govern the Peoples of the Great Kingdom of Aspa, Abras, San Marino, and Southern Islands, and of your Possessions and other Territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs,” he declared. “I will always support you on your power, always remind you of Law and Justice, in Mercy, and will always trust you in all your judgments.”

You wanted to extend him a hand and hold his fingers between yours but didn’t. You just waited.

“I will always be by your side,” he continued, and you felt as some tears formed in your eyes, blinking them away. “In the good time and the bad. In war and in peace. I swear my oath to be your most faithful and loyal subject.”

Your husband took his right hand to his chest, over his heart.

“God save the Queen.”

The crowd was what took you away from the bubble you’d partially create looking at him.

“God save the Queen.”

Your husband stood up, and sat on the much simpler throne by your side, wearing a crown made especially for his – and for the country as well – new title.

“I now crown you, James, Prince Consort of Aspa.”

He stepped away, and everyone stood up as you _finally_ felt your husband’s fingers tangled into yours.

When the national anthem played, you relaxed. It wouldn’t be easy, but you weren’t alone.


	39. Epilogue

You squeezed Bucky’s hand nervously, groaning in pain and trying to keep your breath even.

“You’re doing so well,” Bucky whispered into your ear, completely ignoring the doctors around you. “I can’t wait to see our baby, doll. I can’t wait to see our baby in your arms.

“It hurts so much,” you said under your breath.

“You can do it, I know you can,” he moved both his hands so he could massage you.

“Just one more, your majesty,” the midwife told you. “Your child is a single push away. I just need one more.”

And so you did, holding your breath and pushing with everything you had in you, earning a loud cry just a few steps away from you.

Bucky’s smile was enough to know to make you open an even larger one, and his eyes filled with tears when he moved his gaze to the newborn baby.

“It’s a boy!” she announced happily.

“He’s a redhead just like your mother,” your husband announced with a big smile. “Look at him.”

You used your elbows to rest your weight on them, but before you could lay a single glance at your son, another contraction made you fall back down.

“Oh God,” you cried out, and your husband’s posture quickly changed.

“What is wrong?” he questioned, sounding terrified, but no one answered him.

Quickly, the doctor moved to see what was going on, leaving the midwife with your son, and you felt the same pain as before.

“Ma’am, I believe there is another child,” he looked up at you.

“Another?” you turned to your husband, completely surprised.

“Please, stay where you are, ma’am,” the midwife instructed. “Don’t move.”

Your second child took less time than your boy to be born, and when you heard a second cry, you could see relief cover Bucky’s face.

“Another boy?” he questioned.

“A girl,” she smiled, cutting the umbilical cord. “A beautiful girl.”

You threw your head back in relief, and you felt him shift his weight by your side.

“Are you sure there is no other child there?” he questioned, smiling goofily.

“Oh, please, no,” you threw your head back. “I can’t go a third time.”

He laughed and learn close to you, kissing your lips softly.

“We can wait a few years.”

You nodded, breathing deeply, and smiled when you saw the midwife bringing the redhead boy close to you, and the doctor gave the girl to Bucky, who walked slowly to your side, trying to balance her evenly

“Have you chose any names?”

“The girl is Rebecca,” he smiled at her. “Rebecca Virginia Elizabeth.”

“And this is Anthony,” you moved your hand to caress your son’s hair and turned to your husband. “Anthony Sebastian Philip.”

Bucky smiled, and played your daughter’s small hand, bouncing her slowly from one side to the other before freezing and looking at you with wide eyes.

“Darling, we don’t have a crib for a second baby,” he exclaimed, surprised. “We need more things.”

You took a breath, looking down at your son.

“I’m sure we can work with what we have.”

It was only in the night when you were lied on the bed with the two babies between you, and could see how your two children already had some features that showed how they would look.

“She’ll have your father’s nose,” Bucky whispered, moving his pointy finger over the bridge of her little nose. “And my lips.”

“You have beautiful lips,” you smiled. “She’s lucky, then.”

He just looked at you, holding a large goofy smile on his face.

“I told you at least one of our kid would have your mother’s hair,” he reminded you. “Have the country ever had a redhaired king?”

You thought for a bit of time.

“Maybe… One of them? Or three? Not sure. We can check the paintings.”

He nodded, caressing the belly of the baby boy in front of him.

“Is it weird that I love them so much already?” he whispered. “I mean… I don’t know them for more than a day and it feels...” he struggled. “You know?”

You nodded slowly.

“I do.”

You fell into silence again and giggled when Rebecca yawned adorably and took a look breath before turning to your husband.

“James?” you called.

“Yes?” he turned to look at you.

“I love you.”

His eyes went wide. You weren’t one to express your feelings openly and he knew that. You were married for more than a year – and some months – and he’s never heard those words coming out of his mouth. He was completely surprised.

“I know,” he nodded. “I mean… I… I know. I… _Know_. I’ve always known.”

You took a long breath.

“Thank you for being patient with me,” you looked into his eyes. “I know I’m not the easiest person and that we started… A bit roughly. I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier, I’m just...”

“You’re you,” he reached out, holding your hand. “I know. I love you too.”

You rested back on the pillow, closing your eyes and ready to sleep – still absolutely tired -, and he cleared his throat after less than a minute.

“Will I even hear that coming out of your lips again?”

You chuckled and laughed the tiniest bit.

“Rely on my actions, not on my words,” you advised him. “It’s the best for both of us.”

“Okay,” he squeezed your hand. “I can live like that.”


End file.
